Queen Ravenhair
by Sunrise Phoenix
Summary: (A role-reverse of the fairy-tale 'King Thrushbread' Set in the 'Duelist Of The Roses' world.) Prince Henry mocks everyone he meets...so much so; that his aunt promises to marry him to the first beggar or gypsy that comes to the door. When a young gypsy does come; Henry is sent off with his new 'wife' to live a life he never thought he'd have to live. (Henry [Yami Yugi] X OC)
1. Chapter 1

_A group of children ran through the dirt streets; laughing as they dashed to the Great Hall. The crisp air was cool, and leaves scattered around their feet with each step they took._

 _"Can't catch me, slowpokes!" Called a young boy with brown hair._

 _"Please, wait up Daniel!" Another boy shouted back. "We can't run as fast."_

 _The only girl in the group, darted around a villager pushing a wheelbarrow of potatoes. "We wouldn't have to run, if Daniel had finished his chores on time!" She glared daggers at Daniel. "You just had to have a conversation with Polly, didn't you?"_

 _Daniel gave a cheeky grin. "What can I say, Hannah? She's a good listener...and easy on the eyes." He ducked to avoid a punch from Hannah, then turned to the other boy. "Get the lead out, Luke! Same to you, Jacob!"_

 _"I would, if I could!" Luke panted, struggling to keep up._

 _"Same here!" Answered his brother._

 _Today was the Harvest Celebration; the week before the cold of winter and prepare for it's harsh weather. Many people were hanging wreaths made from wheat and dried berries, garlands of maple leaves entwined with pine branches were strung above storefronts and front doors. Gourds, hollowed out with the tops off; hung by strings either in windows, front posts or they sat on the ground just beside the front of the door. The smell of roasts, stews, and baked goods wafted through the village; all coming from the Great Hall itself._

 _Daniel and his friends charged up the steps, and through the tall doors of the Great Hall. The place was also decorated for the festivities, and the candles in the metal holders were being switched for new ones. A couple of brazers were on the left and right sides of the huge room, long tables with benches stood ready for people to sit. Few of the villagers were setting the tables with wooden bowls, goblets and utensils. Plus many clay and metal jugs to be filled with beer, wine, and water._

 _The children dashed over to a woman, dressed in a green cloak with Celtic designs. Her dress was blue-green, with a tan bodice with red orange lacing up the front. She turned to the sound of the children's footfalls, and gave them a bemused smile, with twinkling eyes from under her hood._

 _"Are-Are we late?" Luke asked, while catching his breath._

 _Hannah snorted. "If we are, it's Daniel's fault."_

 _"Hey!"_

 _The woman chuckled, then wagged a finger at them. "Now, now...do you want to hear the story or not?"_

 _"Oh, yes!"-"Please!"-"Tell us, tell us!"-"Been waiting all year!"-"We'll be good!"_

 _"Alright, sit down and I'll begin."_

 _The children sat down by her feet as she sat on the bench front of them. "Long ago...in a time when tales of dragons, hobgoblins and fairies were told; there lived a countess who had a nephew that was handsome to look upon. In fact many claimed, he was as kind as he was handsome. Never had an unkind word about anyone. But they could be farther from the truth..."_

:~*~:

The castle of Countess Mai, wife to Count Joey; was full of the sounds of the morning routine. Kitchen preparing breakfast, servants cleaning the floors and dusting the many treasures the count had acquired on his many trips. Count Joey walked with his wife down the many halls to the Dining Hall; chatting about what the day might bring. The count was tall, with honey colored eyes and blonde hair and a kind heart. He wore a blue tunic and and brown pants with a sliver belt that had a dagger on one side.

The lady herself was lovely; her golden hair hung to her waist in waves, violet eyes gleamed and almost matched her gown. Ruby lips were pulled into a grin as she laughed at a joke her husband told.

Upon arriving, the Head of the Servants brought over a few documents for Joey to look through. "Sir, the daily reports."

"Put 'em on my desk, Roland. Ya know I like to spend the meals with my wife."

Roland bowed and took the reports to the Count's study, as servants brought out the morning meal. Mai began to pour herself some ale, when a maid came up and set a basket of fresh baked buns in front of her.

"Would you like some honeyed peaches, milady?"

The Countess shook her head, "No, thanks hun. I'm watching my figure...but I'm sure my husband and nephew would love some." She sent Joey a wink his way. Causing him to blush. Then started eating the fresh cooked goose, that had been seasoned with oranges. After a few minutes, a muffled voice came from the hall.

"Seems we don't have to drag, Henry out of bed today." Joey commented, having a sip of his own glass of ale.

As if on cue; a young man entered wearing a white shirt, and black pants with matching leather boots. He had left his shirt open in the front, revealing his slim chest. He was of medium height, and his skin was slightly tan. Burgundy colored eyes, were rimmed with dark lashes that made them look fuller. His hair was tri-colored; star-shaped black in color and outlined in red. Golden, lighting shaped bangs framed his face of sharp features; while a few extra strands shot up into his hair, making some-sort-of crown. His arms had some muscle, from practicing his swordsmanship.

The man's name; was Henry Tudor. And he was the nephew to Countess Mai.

"Glad you could join us, Henry." Mai said, while having a bite of the goose.

Henry sat down with a huff and grabbed a meat pie, before having a bite. "Blast it all...bumbling oaf..."

"Pardon?" Joey asked.

"The servant who was supposed to have my bath ready, was late this morning! To top it off, he was sweating so hard I think he corrupted the soap. Bloody pig-"

Mai put down her goblet, hard. "Henry...we talked about this. You're not to mock the servants, they work hard to do their jobs. Plus, Jacob's wife is expecting their second child. And he's been running himself almost into the ground, as she can't work with the day of birth fast approaching."

"That still doesn't give him the right, to-!"

Joey held up his hands, "H-Hey now, why don't we change the subject? Mai, you say Jacob's wife will have the baby soon? Do they know if it's a boy or girl?"

Mai took a breath to regain her composure. "Yes, she is. And no, they're not sure. But I do know that Olivia is hoping for a girl."

Henry slumped in his chair, bored as his aunt and uncle talked. Once breakfast was over; he went back to his room and finished dressing for the days hunting party. He wanted to get many catches today; and put the morning's events behind him. He covered a cough, before clearing his throat. With summer almost gone, the castle was getting colder. Meaning that he'd need more blankets, than the ones currently on his four-poster bed. Perhaps even a fur pelt. Grabbing cape that was brown as the earth, Henry put it around his shoulders and headed out.

He passed a few servants, gave a sneer at one's long nose. "Bird beak." He muttered under his breath.

Upon stepping into the courtyard, he called for his horse. A lanky stable boy with freckles, brought over a chestnut mare with a black mane. The saddle was polished to perfection, and the bridle's copper clasps shone in the early morning light. Henry mounted as a few other riders arrived and one handed Henry his bow and quiver.

"What are you planning to bag to day, milord?" Asked the falconer. On his shoulder was the bird of prey, the hood over its eyes. Both of the man's hands were adorned with elbow length heavy leather gloves. "Rabbits? Pigeon? Perhaps a Boar?"

"Pheasant." Came Henry's answer. "I desire pheasant for my dinner and I intend to have it." Then to the rest of the party, ordered them to head out.

From the window, Countess Mai watched with her lips in a firm line. Her nephew was becoming a man...but not the kind that respected others. How could a ruler keep a kingdom together if he made an enemy of all around him? "Something must be done soon...or I fear that Henry will not last long on the throne." After a moment, she had Roland be called for...

:~*~:

Henry gripped his horses reigns, as he watched the falcon go after the game bird he desired. So far they had grabbed four of the fowls, but one more would best. They were small birds after all. Two other hunters had bagged a boar, and a rabbit...laughing about how easy the hunting was today.

The young lord sipped from his water skin, finding the daylight making him drowsy.

"Sire? Are you well?" Asked the Game Keeper.

Henry huffed. "Fine. Just the sun..."

"Ah, well there should be a stream ahead. We can water the horses there...and rest a bit."

"Good idea." He signaled the other men, to finish what they were doing. Then let the Game Keeper lead the way, to the stream. The cool water was just what the horses needed, and a few of the men re-filled their water-skins or splashed their faces. Henry stood under a tree, hands behind his head. The young man listened to the chatter of some of the men, a few yards away.

"...I tell ya, lads! She was a jewel among women!" Said one who had stubble on his face.

"No, no...all those bar maids are the same." Replied a red-haired man.

The third man, who had only one eye; shook his head. "I can't believe you both...have you no shame?"

"Just because your married, shouldn't stop you from having fun." The one with stubble, said.

The one-eyed man growled. "Just wait; til you meet the one, who fills your mind day and night. That's when you know, she's the perfect woman."

Henry scoffed and focused on the water. _"Marriage...bah! Give me a good tavern to go wenching any day. Althrough...the perfect woman is something to dream about..."_

A flash of something caught his eye, and he turned to see a stag. Large...powerful...and had an impressive set of horns on it's head. Quietly, Henry picked up his bow and notched an arrow. With practiced steps he soundlessly approached, the animal...

SNAP!

The stag spotted Henry and bolted. The lord followed; cursing himself for not seeing the twig. A few men were behind him, as they had seen him take off like the devil was after him. Henry didn't even acknowledge them...he was too focused on his quarry. While running, he pulled the arrow back...bow shaking from the strain...then let it fly.

Closer...closer...almost to the beasts heart...

 **"NO!"**

The stag had jumped over a log, the last second. The arrow became lodged deep, into the wood. Snarling; Henry grabbed another arrow from his quiver and readied his aim. He was about to release the arrow when the Game Keeper made his horse block Henry's path...and cause Henry to fall onto his back in surprise. But it turned to rage, in a second. "You stupid man! Get out of my way, that stag is mine!"

"Forgive me, milord. But I had to do it...or you'd be lost to us."

"What are you talking about?"

The Game Keeper pointed to the forest, where the stag had disappeared into. "That forest...something's in there..."

"Yes. The stag, now move!"

"It's not just the stag...there's something that protects that forest, and it's animals." He continued. "People say it's druids; people who worshiped the earth and all it's blessings. When we, the English; came onto these shores and mistreated the land...they cast a spell on that forest. Those who enter with hostile or evil intent...are never heard from again."

Henry looked at the wide stretch of trees with leaves of emerald, and mossy barked trunks. It seemed normal enough, but did he really want to chance it? Growling, he turned and ordered everyone to mount their horses. They were heading back to the castle.

:~*~:

Meanwhile, the stag bounded through the forest at full speed. Over dell...over knoll...over stream...through field...until it came to a town on the other side of the large uncharted forest. A meadow greeted it, and ended at a lodge-like house. The stag sagged to the ground in exhaustion, as a woman dressed in brown cotton came over with some water.

"Oh you poor creature...here, have some." She placed some of the water in a bowl, to which the stag drank eagerly. "There now, my friend. Rest here awhile." A slim pale hand, rough from hard work; stroked the warm coat of the animal in a loving way. The other hand offered it some fresh clover, and chuckled from the feel its ticklish nose. "Have you traveled far? I wonder where, if that's true...?"

:~*~:

To say Henry was not in a good mood, was putting it mildly... He was enraged! Not only had he failed, to obtain the number of phesants for dinner...he lost a prized stag! Just that alone was enough to set his blood boiling. He stomped into the castle; eyes burning like coals and a growl in his throat.

Servants skittered out of his way in fright, or duck into other rooms; in order to keep out of the lord's way. Once in his chambers did Henry rip off his cape and yelled in frustration. "First my morning bath was corrupted...and now I lost a stag...that would have been perfect, on the wall!" Henry grabbed a pewter pitcher and threw it at the wall; making it clang against the stone. Anger finally spent, he flopped on his bed with an arm over his eyes. A knock made him growl, until he heard his uncle's voice. "Come in, if you must."

Joey popped his head in. "We saved a bit of the noon-day meal, for ya. Want me have someone bring it up?"

"No. I just want to be alone..."

"Alright. Don't forget the sparring match you promised me."

That made made Henry chuckle. "Sure you want to do it? I've already proven to be too strong for you."

Joey snorted. "Please, I've gone easy on ya."

The young lord laughed. "Keep telling yourself that...Twenty minutes?"

"Make it fifteen."

"Done."

Joey left his nephew to rest, and headed back to the study. The reports of the war were getting bloodier and bloodier...even through Henry had been sent to him and his wife to keep safe. Of course; that been ten years ago. While the young lord had grown in body, he still acted like a child at times. Mai and Joey had done all they could in teaching him to rule...but he still remained bitter and constantly belittling everyone he met.

The Countess had often tried to make Henry see sense, but he didn't take her seriously. Not enough anyway. Joey rubbed his tired eyes; if only Henry's father was still alive...he had been not only a good Lord to his people; but he had been reasonable, compassionate, and fair. His wife was also firm...but also kind, gentle and could make any dark and dreary day become bright and cheerful. It was hard when she had died when Henry was only two years old, but his father was able to raise him as well as he could. And then; a year after Henry had arrived to live him and Mai...the good man joined his wife in heaven.

The Count looked though the reports, before placing them in a pile on the corner of his desk. Just as one of the elder servants came in.

"The latest shipment has arrived, sir. Would you like me to bring you, some of the fresh mead?"

Joey shook his head. "Thank you, but no. I don't think I could keep, anything down at the moment. Arthur?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Do you think the war is a curse?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Joey rested his chin on his folded hands. "This war. The fact that it's been going on, for years now...makes me think it's a 'cruse' or 'hex' of some kind. With each year; both sides lose more people...nobles, knights, peasants. Be it from battle, sickness or hunger...they fall. I'm not even in this fight, and yet letters come to keep me up to date. Very detailed letters." He closed his eyes. "Gods Wounds, Arthur...I fear the world's gone mad."

Arthur said nothing, at first. Then came to stand by the Count's desk. "If I may sir; while you can't do anything to stop the war, or stop the letters...perhaps you should focus on the other matter."

"What's that?"

"The Countess has decided, to find Henry a bride. Although...she'll need help from you.

"You know what? You're right, Arthur!" He jumped up and said over his shoulder, "Thank you, my good man! If Mai hasn't done so yet, summon the fastest messengers!"

:~*~:

That evening...

Countess Mai finished pressing her house seal, into the hot wax on the parchment. All were set and ready, to go out. Roland picked up the letters and headed to the stable to hand them to the messengers who were waiting on their horses. The Countess headed to the Dining Hall and calmly sat down as her husband entered with her nephew.

The table was set with roasted duck, bread, chicken with lemon juice, the two pheasants and hare; Henry caught with the hunters, were seasoned and cooked golden brown. Fruit Tarts and Almond Cakes drizzled with Honey were piled on metal trays. Pitchers of mead, beer and a bottle of wine stood waiting to drank.

Henry told his aunt and uncle about the hunt, the stag that got away. "...and I almost had him! If The Captain hadn't stopped me, we'd be having deer meat tonight along with everything."

"It's better you didn't, Henry." Countess Mai said, around a bite of roast duck. "Those woods...they're not natural. Even I dare not enter it. There are things in that forest...Goblins, Pooka, evil sprites. It's best we stay clear of it."

"But," Joey added. "There are a few who are able to go through; even live in there, safely. Some say they're blessed by Nature herself, or descendants of Druids themselves."

"Or it's just a story, made up by fools who are just trying to make us look stupid."

"Don't mock, Henry!" Countess Mai scolded, before calming herself. "There is something we must speak with you about. As you know; you're of age to marry-"

Henry rolled his eyes, "Please get to the point."

"I've summoned; the daughters of the neighboring chiefs, and high standard lords to come here."

Those words made the young man almost choke on his drink. "YOU WHAT?!"


	2. Chapter 2

The castle of Countess Mai and Count Joey was a bustle of activity, for the next few weeks; the servants cleaned and dusted every room and the kitchen prepared a menu for the guests that were due to arrive. Everyone was excited to see who were going to show...well...almost everyone.

Henry was furious! He paced his room over and over; he had tried everything to put the whole up-coming, event out of his brain the last few weeks. He practiced his sword skills, rode his horse, but nothing worked. Scowling, he thought back to the conversation he and his aunt had after dinner that night...

:~*~:

 **"Have you lost your senses?!"**

 **"Don't talk to me that way, young man!" Countess Mai roared, hands on her hips. "You should be happy I found a few who don't hate the English or want to kill us on sight! Many have a grudge against us for taking the land they love...very few accept us."**

 **Henry growled. "You didn't think that maybe, they just said that so they could kill me?!"**

 **"Stop being dramatic, Henry. These chief's are bound by the peace treaty we have...they wouldn't dare to break it." She took a breath. "You have to find a wife-"**

 **The prince grabbed a vase and threw it, at the wall with a scream. "How dare you invite all the daughters of those...vulgar chiefs! People of that nature are savages!"**

 **Joey held up his hands. "Whoa there, Henry! That's going a little too far...and that was my favorite vase by the way..."**

 **Henry kicked over a table in his rage. "They probably don't even know how to be human...running around with those weird markings on their faces...!"**

 **"That would be War Paint. The use it to tell friends from foes on the battle field, and they use it during celebrations." The Count replied. "Plus some of them aren't so bad."**

 **Mai sighed and glared at Henry. "I suggest you make your peace with this...the ladies are coming and you will choose one for your wife."**

:~*~:

Garnet eyes narrowed and he looked out the window, to see a few groups on horse back and covered wagons come into view. On the ground, the stewards and horse boys scurried back and forth to get the stables ready for the many horses. Scoffing, Henry turned to get ready before Countess Mai had to drag him to the throne room.

An hour later, the prince slouched onto the throne next to Joey. Cheek in hand, and a bored expression. Countess Mai took one last look at everything before, sitting in her own...and made a gesture with her hand. The servants opened the doors, and the chief's entered with their daughters. Many wore fur with the flaxen or cotton cloth...some even wore beads woven into braids in their hair. Some of the men did in their beards. Chatter erupted from many of the people, and a few men even shook hands or clapped each other on the back. Only the English nobles wore fine silks, lace and other such finery that those in England wore.

Henry saw a few girls, giggle and look in his direction. Whispering to each other and blushing as they gazed at the prince. This only made him feel sick to his stomach.

His aunt stood up and held up a hand for silence. "I welcome you all to our castle, great tribes! Today we'll see if one of you..." As she went on, Henry saw a woman in a green gown and brown braid trim nearby. She wasn't too tall...and had a necklace of wooden beads in many colors on a leather strand. She stood tall...regal almost...and yet her face was covered by a veil. Hiding her features. However, her black hair hung down her back in a braid.

 _"Strange, she has a veil covering her face..."_ Henry thought. _"Just as well...as I don't care whose under it."_

"...And now, we shall have a feast to welcome you to our home."

As the meal progressed; all of the guests mingled with each other. A few of the chiefs drank ale like parched men...draining tankard after tankard. A few of the Englishmen joined in the rowdy songs, even going as far as to share stories about similar tastes and likes they had with each other. By afternoon; all plates and platters were cleaned. The Countess then stood, and once more called for quiet.

With the feast finished; let us begin the choosing. Ladies; please stand in a line, and Henry will walk down and look at each of you."

Mentally groaning, Henry ground his teeth in anger as the ladies did as the countess asked. The veiled lady joined the ranks, making him raise a brow. Once all the girls were ready; Henry walked down the line. He took note at some of the women; a few were tall, or plump...others either had too many jewels or too much perfume. One had her corset laced so tight, that her chest stuck out like a flabby shelf...another had so much powder on her face she seemed a ghost. Each girl Henry would look at; he'd mentally give them a mean name. Those names got worse when he came to the Chieftain Daughters. And he said them out loud to humiliate them.

The first was pudgy girl with feckless. "Round as a barrel."

Second had rosy skin, but it clashed with her hair. "Red as a rooster."

One of the girls was lame in one leg, and had to use a staff. "Lame and thick, is never quick."

Another girl was very thin, and wore her auburn hair in a braided bun. "Green dried log behind the stove."

On and on it went...til Henry came to the end of the line. The woman there, was the one who hid her face. He tried to see through the veil, but it was too thick. "Why do you hide your face?" There was no answer. "I asked you a question." Still nothing.

The woman's hand maiden came forward. "It's custom for a girl to hide her face, at events such as this. This way, the man will not marry a woman for her pretty face only. Same with her body and voice...our tribe believes in a marriage of true, pure love."

Henry snorted, and glared at the veiled lady. There had to be a fault with her...if he couldn't see her face, then perhaps something else would work. He walked around her in a slow circle; no visible scars...no extra fingers or deformed limbs... _"Gods wounds, there's got to be something!"_ He thought angrily. A gentle breeze blew through an open window, and caused a few strands of her hair to escape her braid. They were so fine, that the young man thought them to be feathers at first...

"Hair like a raven's wing... **Ravenhair**!" He burst out laughing. "That fits you well! Quite well, in fact!" He gave a mocking bow. "To be graced by the 'Queen of all Ravens'...what an honor! Tell me; do you feather your nest with your **_own_** feathers, from your _**head**_?!"

Joey groaned and downed a goblet of wine, hoping to pass out and miss the whole thing. Everyone in the room was shocked by Henry's attitude and behavior...did he not realize who the woman was?! A few of the women backed away, in fear of what the veiled woman might do. Just the thought made even the battle hardened chiefs and their warriors drew back, in terror.

"Still not a word? Shame, I would like to hear the 'Queen of all Ravens' sing!" Henry continued. "Come, come **Ravenhair**...not a even a few notes? Oh, very well. Did you 'fly' here? Must have considering-"

 **"ENOUGH!"**

The Countess Mai stomped forward, and grabbed her nephew by the ear. "You have shamed me, for the last time! You selfish, spoiled boy!" To the lady, the Countess apologized and begged a thousand pardons from her guests. Then turned to Henry, with a glare that could rival a devil. "Mark my words, for your insolent behavior and embarrassing our guests...you will rue the day! Roland!"

The servant appeared at her side, in a micro second. "Yes, milady?"

"Take this down."

Henry squirmed out of her grip. "What are-oww!" The squirming intensified when she grabbed his ear again. "Let go!"

"Hear me everyone! 'I, Countess Mai; here by decree that I will marry my nephew to the first beggar or gypsy woman that comes to my door! Let it be known!'" She then dragged the prince by the ear out of the room, and into her husband's study. Many could hear muffled shouting and heated words as they left...and then murmured to each other that who ever came to the castle; beggar or gypsy, would be getting a terrible husband.

And yet, through it all; the veiled woman had silently watched. The only time she did move, was to nod at her handmaiden to follow her to the courtyard with a few other of the girls.

:~*~:

Late that night...

Count Joey and his wife were preparing for bed, well...Joey was in bed...and Mai was removing her hair pins in an angry fashion. "...of all the stupid...thick headed...pompous...oafish, stuck up-!"

"Easy, Mai! You'll rip your hair out, if you do that."

"How could Henry do this us!?" She asked, heatedly. "To the chiefs and nobles?! I'll never be able to show my face in public again!"

"Doubt Henry will either...if, and only if, a beggar or gypsy does come to the castle...he'd never be able to show his face if he'd married someone like that."

"And what will happen if Henry stays like this?! Ascend the throne as he is now?!" Mai asked, almost in hysterics. "He'll be either impeached or have his head bouncing down the street!"

Joey grabbed his wife's shoulders. "Calm down Mai! I'm sure it won't come to that...now, **please** calm down. It's been a long day, and who knows...maybe Henry will grow out of this?"

"For our sake, and his...I hope so."

A knock made them look at the door, and Arthur entered before he bowed. "Forgive the interruption, my lord and lady. But there is someone who wishes to speak urgently with the Countess...and it cannot wait."

Countess Mai sighed, and grabbed a robe. "Very well, I'm coming." She followed Arthur to the Count's office; and was surprised at who was there, waiting for her...


	3. Chapter 3

A month passed since the spectacle in the castle; and the cold autumn winds started to blow through the land. The leaves slowly started to turn the colors of gold, orange, and ruby red...also becoming brittle and falling to the earth. Some mornings there would be thin layer of frost on the surface of the water in horse troughs and buckets. Many people were storing food and supplies in their pantries or storehouses, making warm clothes and other preparations. And few had frowns on their faces; some enjoyed the work and others were just used to it, and they had smiles when they returned to their families or go meet their friends at the local tavern.

But the same happiness was not found in the castle. The Count and Countess were trying to keep their patience, as Henry's temper and mocking got worse with each passing week. Speaking of the prince; he would go hunting and came back in a foul mood...no matter how many prizes he caught. Clearly, he wanted that prized stag that got away, or something like it. Each time he chased his prey on foot or horseback...he was stopped from following his quarry into the woods.

On this day; Henry was sitting on the windowsill of his bedroom window. He had his shirt open at the neck, and munched on a bit of dried meat. He stared out into the distance, lost in his own thoughts. Eyes had light dark rings around them; as he would wake some nights coughing hard. Sometimes they were so hard, that tears would prick his eyes. His aunt had told him to see the physician...but those potions and slop they 'claimed' were medicine never actually worked. And the last thing he wanted was someone poking and prodding him like how the cooks would do to the meat they prepared.

A raven flew past the window, making him think of 'Queen Ravenhair'. She never did once speak, or throw a tantrum like the other women. Even when he tried to 'push her' to break her custom. She wasn't like the other women. In fact, a merchant's daughter; who had come a day late, had a fit and tried to throw a metal bowl of fruit at his head. Clearly, she had short temper...and didn't like how he compared her to a barmaid.

Popping the last bit of meat into his mouth, Henry decided to go practice his sword skills. As he walked down the hall...a sound caught his ears; music and laughter. Walking towards it, his found Joey on the balcony with his wife. They were clapping to the music and seemed to be enjoying themselves...

"What's going on?" The crimson-eyed man, asked.

"Oh, Henry! Perfect timing!" The Count said, clasping the other man's shoulder. "Have a look at this, would ya."

Henry looked down and saw many servants had stopped working, instead they were watching a woman dance. All were smiling and having a merry time, as the women spun and leaped around.

"She quite a dancer, eh?" Countess Mai asked, ruby lips pulling into a smile. "Graceful like a swan..."

"More like a jumping cricket." Was Henry's reply.

Countess Mai took a deep breath, to calm her nerves. Then called down to the group when the dance was over. "Your dance has impressed me, my lady. Will you please dance for my husband, nephew and I?"

"I'd be honored, your grace." Answered the woman.

"Excellent! I'll have Arthur take you to the throne room, in a moment." Mai turned and ushered Henry forward. "Come on, come on...we don't get something like this chance happen every day. Now, hop!"

Henry groaned but did as he was told, and slouched in his throne when they arrived. His aunt sternly told him to fix his shirt, and sit up straight. A manservant brought over some wine, and grapes...the prince gulped half a glass down in only a minute. After a moment the doors opened, and Arthur appeared with the woman following behind him. And such a woman!

Her skin was creamy, black hair went past her shoulders in waves, lips like pink roses and her eyes...by heaven...they were the color of the purest gold! A rose was behind one ear, a gold hoop earring was on her right ear, a pendent of the sun was around her neck, along with a pouch. In her hands she carried a tambourine.

The outfit she wore was a cream-colored slip with a dark yellow blouse over it, that had black and brown needlework, the bodice was a blackish color and red belt matched the flower in her hair. Along with a small chain of bronze coins that hung from it. The skirt she wore was the color rich soil; with multiple colors of thread in many designs. The border of the skirt had stitched roses, that seemed to move with each step she took. Her feet were bare...and wet?

"Forgive the lateness, your graces." Arthur said, with a bow. "But the lady wanted to wash her feet, before entering the castle."

Henry raised a brow, at that. Did she want to make a good impression?

"I see you have respect." Count Joey said, with a nod. "Very wise."

The woman bowed. "Thank you, your grace. I was taught to never track mud through a host or hostess's home."

 _"Yep. Called it..."_ Henry thought, bitterly.

The Countess beamed. "Well said, my girl. Now please, dance for us? I must see you preform again."

"Very well." The black haired woman, went to the musician's in the corner and asked them to play a song. then stood in the middle of the room. The music started a quick song, and the woman added to it when she hit the tambourine against her leg. Arms arched and her body spun with fluid grace. And to top it off; she even sang...

"Hey, solider boy, I see how you stare.

Hey, butcher man, I see you admire.

Come gather 'round,

Hey, Jacob and Ollie!

Come see me dance to the rhythm of the tambourine."

She did another spin, and Henry couldn't help but watch. Didn't realize he had his mouth slightly open, and his jaw almost dropped completely when she did a back flip. All the people cheered, and clapped to help keep time.

"Flash of ankle,

Flip of a skirt,

Feel them excite, inflame and inspire.

Come see me dance, hey, what can it hurt?

It's just a dance to the rhythm of the tambourine"

She tossed her tambourine high in the air and caught it after twirling in place, then the dancer turned it into a silken scarf and danced with slow movements...then skipped towards Henry and wrapped the cloth around his neck. Normally, Henry would've smirked and played along...but not this time...he found himself unable to move and let her pull his body towards her. Then she playfully skipped back, taking the scarf with her and threw a wink over her shoulder at him. That snapped Henry back to his senses, and he crossed his arms with a scowl. How dare she do that to him...of all people!

"All of the Land, 

Before we get old, 

Come feel the heat, come taste the desire!

Feel them within you, crimson and gold! 

Gold like the coins you will toss into my tambourine.

When I dance to the rhythm of the tambourine!"

When the last note played, she threw the scarf into air making it become the tambourine again, and hit it one last time. The whole room cheered and clapped, giving the woman coins that she put into the pouch around her neck. The Countess held up a hand for quiet, and then walked towards the woman.

"That was quite a dance, my dear. I enjoyed it very much."

"I'm glad you're pleased, your grace."

"I wish to reward you, as I haven't seen such passion for dancing."

"We gypsies don't need much, milady."

At the word 'gypsy', Countess Mai's eyes gleamed like a cat. "I see...well, perhaps the hand of my nephew will suit?"

Henry exploded at those words. "WHAT?! There's no way-!"

A slap cut off his words, and echoed throughout the room. No one moved, as the countess glared at her nephew. "Have you forgotten what you did, last month?" She asked, in a soft voice that dripped with venom. "Or the oath I swore? 'I'll marry you to the first beggar or gypsy who comes to door'. You have no choice."

Henry was frozen to the spot; he never dreamed his aunt would go through with it...that it was just a threat, like usual. But now, the fear and shock was too much for him to react. The pain of his cheek brought him crashing back to reality, and he heard the coutness ask the gypsy if she'd accept him as her husband...to his horror she agreed.

A priest was called for, and they had a small, if not quick, ceremony. Once it was finished, Henry was forced to remove his fine clothes and put on plain cotton garments. They scratched his skin, and the heavy cloak he was given didn't help at all. As he was now the gypsy's husband; he couldn't stay in the castle.

"I'm sorry, Henry." Count Joey said, giving his friend and nephew a big hug. "I wish I could do something...but the law is the law."

Only a nod was Henry's answer. He still couldn't find his voice, this was just too much. The countess only kissed his forehead, and gave them a sack of food to take with them. With legs like lead; the once-prince followed his 'wife' away from the life he had known.

:~*~:

Hours they walked; over hills, through meadows, and over streams...it was only afternoon when the gypsy decided to stop and have something to eat. Henry ate only a few bites, as he was mentally wallowing in despair. It wasn't until he tried standing, that he hissed in pain.

"Are you alright?" The gypsy asked.

"I'm fine!" He snapped, while forcing himself to stand. "Are we almost there?"

"Just across the lake...we have to hurry or we'll miss the ferry."

Henry walked behind her, biting his lip to distract him from the pain in his feet. They soon came to a large lake, it was so long and wide that two armies wouldn't fill it. A ferryman was about to leave when they arrived, and waved them on after they paid for the crossing. The crimson-eyed man tried to put the pain out of his head and focused on the water. He was so lost in thought, that he didn't sense his 'wife' come over and stand next to him.

"I can see you nursing your feet," She said. "Why didn't you tell me they were hurting you?"

"And why should you **care**?!" Henry seethed.

"Because I'm your wife." Was the gypsy's reply. "And it's my duty to know when my husband needs help."

The former prince rolled his eyes, and looked at the water again. "I don't need-"

"Rubbish!" The woman snapped, softly. "Everyone needs help once in a while. Even royals."

Nothing else was said between them, as the ferry sailed across the lake. Upon reaching the other side; Henry bit his lip again to distract himself from the pain his feet were giving him. The gypsy grabbed a thick fallen branch, and held it out to him. "Here, use this to help you walk."

"I told you I don't need help." He growled.

"I'm not asking you to take it," Came her reply. "I'm **telling** you to take it. Now use it."

Henry blinked in surprise, and grudgingly took the branch before following the gypsy along the path. While the branch cane helped somewhat...pain still shot up his legs. As they walked, the two pasted a lush meadow; green with wild flowers and a stream running through part of it. "Do you know who this meadow belongs to?" He asked, almost serenely.

"This belongs to the one you called 'Queen Ravenhair'." Was the gypsy's answer. "Or rather, it's part of her kingdom. Had you taken her as your wife...you could've also called it as yours."

"Fool that I am," Henry said, bitterly. "I should've married 'Queen Ravenhair'."

After a while, they passed some fields of grain. Some farmers were outside, harvesting many bales and carrying them over their shoulders. An ox pulling a plow was nearby, and a few houses had their cook fires going.

"To whom do these fields belong to?" Henry asked, his companion.

"The one you called 'Queen Ravenhair', owns them. If you married her; it'd also be yours."

Henry sighed. "Fool that I am; I should've married 'Queen Ravenhair'.

Twenty minutes later; as they were walking down a hill, the former prince saw a cluster of houses. Each one made of wood with a moss covered roof...a tree grew in the center of the 'town' and towering above it all, was a large building. Half as tall as his aunts castle, and almost as wide. "What's that down there? A town?"

"No, a village. While it maybe smaller than your English towns...everyone looks after one another."

"Does their lord live in that large building?"

The gypsy laughed. "By heaven no! That's the Great Hall; everyone in the village goes there for meetings, celebrations, and the occasional naming ceremony."

"'Naming Ceremony'?"

"It's when a new born baby is given its name, and is told to the whole village." She said. "It's quite a lovely thing to behold."

"Then where does the lord live? Over the hill?"

"No. She lives in one of the houses, in the village. In fact, that's where 'Queen Ravenhair' lives."

Henry's jaw dropped; he was in the veiled woman's kingdom?! Just the fact made him want to run back to the lake, and toss himself into the middle. The once-prince looked at the small village below, if he had married her; the meadow, fields, and lush land would've been his. And if they met each other, as he was now...

"Fool that I am...I should've marr-"

"Enough!" Yelled the woman. She whirled on Henry, eyes blazing like molten gold. "It makes my blood boil, to hear you yearn for another. You had your chance to marry the chiefest; and you threw it away. You are married to me, and no one else."

Squeezing his eyes shut; Henry followed the gypsy down the path. The two neared a forest, and while they entered; they didn't go far into it. In a small clearing, was a large brown Gypsy Wagon or caravan. A fire pit was nearby with a log to sit on, and a large black horse was grazing in an enclosed pen. As they came closer; Henry noticed odd designs and symbols around the windows and along the sides. The two had to cross a creek to get to the cart...and the young man scrunched his nose in distaste. "And who does this hovel belong to?"

"This my husband, is my home. And now yours, as well."

This time, Henry didn't stop the moan from escaping him, and reluctantly followed his 'wife' into the caravan. There was a large bed against the far wall, shelves on one side were full of dried food or jars and pots with salves or tinctures. Herbs hung from the ceiling to dry, and a table to make medicines adorned the space. The bed had a thick wool blanket, and some pillows and a candle was nearby to light when night fell. A curtain could be drawn for privacy, if need be. It was cozy enough, but Henry didn't see it that way.

The gypsy went over to a chest, and drew out some old clothes as well as a pair of shoes. "Here, these'll fit you much better, than those you're wearing."

"I'm fine." He curtly replied, before yelping in pain from his sore feet.

The gypsy shook her head. "Just change into these, and I'll give you something to ease the pain." She took the branch from Henry and turned around drew the curtain so he could change. As expected; Henry's feet were rubbed raw and blistered from the hard shoes. And his skin had patches of red from where the fabric had scratched against him. His 'new' clothes were a bit softer; even if they smelled like hay, and the shoes a bit more flexible. But he didn't put the latter, on as his soles were too much in pain. After a moment, the gypsy approached the curtain. "Are you decent, husband?"

"Yes..." He sighed, sitting on the bed to take the weight off.

The curtain was drawn back, and the woman had a jar in her hand. "I'm glad the clothes fit, I had planned on using the material to make a few patches for the curtain...but I'm happy I didn't." She put the jar next to the candle, and pulled a bowl of river water to her side along with a rag. Carefully, she kneeled down. "I have some medicine to help, but your feet must be clean first. May I?"

Too tired to protest, Henry let her place his feet in the water. A hiss escaped his lips, from the sting that rocketed up his legs. _"She must've put salt in the water."_ He thought, then raised a brow as small bubbles formed. _"What the-? Is that...?"_

"You act like you've never seen soap before." The Gypsy chuckled, while doing her task.

Henry scoffed. "Tch, you needn't have bothered. I already bathed last week."

"You'll be bathing even more now, my husband." She replied, without looking at him. "We bath every week."

"Every week?! Are you mad?!"

A hard flick on the nose was her response. "No...just sensible. And truth be told; you'll live longer if you do it."

Of course Henry doubted this, and glared at his 'wife' as she finished washing his feet. She then covered the sores in an ointment, before wrapping them in cotton bandages. "There, all finished." She told him. "Keep these on for week, and your feet should be alright. Now, put on the shoes and follow me."

"Why?" He asked, tartly.

"Because, I'll need your help finding some ingredients for dinner. Now hop to it."

Henry growled, but put on his shoes...the bandages kept the leather from rubbing against his sores. Also; helping him walk without too much pain. He spied his 'wife' petting the nose of the large black horse, while a basket was slung over one arm. She was also talking to it, in Gaelic. While Henry didn't know much of the language...he caught the words 'sweetheart', 'good horse', and 'stay'. The horse itself was impressive; gleaming black coat with a lighter mane and tail, long tuffs almost covering the wide hooves, brown eyes alert, and a powerful set of muscle from nose to hind quarters.

"Beautiful, isn't he?"

He gaze snapped to the gypsy, who kept petting the horse. "Huh?"

She looked over her shoulder. "Don't you think?"

"Y-Yes...what kind is he?"

"An 'Irish Cob'. They can pull wagons a great distance. Isn't that right, Oberon?"

The horse seemed to nod it's head, as if answering her question.

"Is she mad?" Henry wondered, before the woman took his arm.

"Come along, we must dawdle." She said, pulling him along.

"Where are you taking me now?!"

She didn't respond, but pointed to the woods. "I'm making soup, but I need some mushrooms. The only kind to use in soups are in the 'Druid's Forest'."

That struck a cord in Henry; the 'Druid's Forest'? Wasn't that where his prized stag had vanished into? And where the Game Keeper, his aunt and uncle told him to stay away...because they feared it and the superstition around it? A smirk graced his lips, and a gleam flickered in his ruby eyes. "The forest you say? I thought people feared it...?"

"Not me. And besides, many of the villagers are descendants of Druids...you respect Nature, she'll do you no wrong." She had him follow her into the woods; there was no path so they had to climb over multiple stumps, fallen branches, rocks and exposed roots. Upon reaching a small knee deep stream, she turned to him again. "But while we aren't afraid to walk through here, there are other things you need to be careful of."

The former prince, lightly stumbled on a rock. He glared at it, then stopped a steps away from her. "Such as?"

"Well, let me see...there's the 'Púca'; a shape-shifter who takes on the form of a pitch black horse. They are violent tricksters who emerge solely at night. Then there's the Dullahan; what you'd call a 'Grim Reaper'. 'Drawfves' are common here, and 'Fairies' too." The Gypsy pondered, while hoping from river stone to river stone. "But certain fairies are cruel...take the 'Leannán Sí'-"

"The what?" Henry asked, trying to not fall into the water.

"She's known by many names, the most common is 'Fairy Muse'. She offers inspiration to an artist in exchange for their love and devotion; however, it frequently results in madness, as well as premature death." Came the Gypsy's answer. "She feeds on life force..and once you're ensnared you can't escape. Another common danger are 'Goblins' and 'Trolls'."

"I'm familiar with the latter." Henry huffed.

"Good, then I don't have to explain. One last thing to watch out for is the Kelpie; 'Water Horse'." She said, ducking under a branch. "It lures people into ponds or lakes by pretending to be a horse in trouble...once someone touches it though, it drags them to the bottom."

"So it drowns them?" Henry asked, bored.

"Not just that." She turned to him, golden eyes blazing once more. But a smirk that matched his, was also on her face. It was the gaze, however, that seemed to root Henry to the spot. And he didn't-or rather couldn't-move when she got nose to nose with him. "Once you're dead, the Kelpie eats you...but leaves only your heart and liver behind on the bank. So...try and be a bit respectful when learning about the dangers of your new home."

He nodded; then swallowed a lump of terror, that had been lodged in his throat before hurrying to catch up to his 'wife'. And for some reason...the forest seemed darker that he thought it was. _"Wait...why am I thinking that?! It's just a bunch of nonsense!"_

"Husband! Keep up!"

"Don't tell me what to do!" Henry snapped; clearly losing his patience.

"Then keep up!"

He was clearly getting irked, and growled as he picked up the pace to rejoin the Gypsy. Henry wanted nothing more than to run in the opposite direction and leave this awful situation...but...being lost in the forest wasn't his idea of a good time.

:~*~:

 **Author's Note:** The creatures the Gypsy mentions are from real Irish Folklore, and the horse 'Irish Cob' is a real horse from Ireland. Back in the time of the 'War Of The Roses'; the people didn't bathe as often as we do now...which meant they got sick and fell to disease too easily. Also the song the Gypsy does; is from the Broadway Musical 'THE HUNCH BACK OF NOTRE DAME'. I suggest looking it up.


	4. Chapter 4

:~*~:

This forest had been there for centuries; trees almost touched the sky, moss and ivy covered almost every fallen tree, stump and a few rocks. The birds sang, deer drank from the streams, rabbits appeared and quickly disappeared when they heard the slightest sound. Bushes with plump berries, large patches of herbal plants, and mushrooms grew in random spots. Evening sunlight streamed from the gaps in the branches of the foliage above...making it dream like.

It truly was a beautiful place, for one who knew their way around. But a certain once-prince didn't see the beauty of the forest…

 _"If I see one more tree…I'm going to lose it."_ Henry mentally seethed. He crossed his arms in an angry fashion, while kicking a small rock. He had been following his 'wife' for hours, looking for mushrooms. And the gypsy kept shaking her head, at all the fungi and making a clicking noise with her tongue. Of all the ridiculous things! "Will you please just pick some?!"

"You could help, you know." She replied. "It'd go a lot faster."

Henry threw his hands up in frustration, "FINE!" The crimson-eyed young man stomped over to a cluster of mushrooms and started to rip up a few deathly white ones…

The gypsy slapped his hand away. "Stop! Not those!"

"And why not?! Mushrooms are all the same!" He snapped.

"No, they are not! Some are deadly poisonous…they can kill a man on the spot." She told him, while pointing to ones Henry had picked. "These are called 'Death Cap'; you eat one of those and you'll be dead in six days. And those red ones growing on that rock? Those are 'Fly Agaric', also deadly. You need to know which ones are safe to eat…that's why I check to make sure." The gypsy handed him the basket, and made him follow her to a tree where a few creamy-colored fungi lay. "These are perfectly safe to use; 'St. George' is the most common we find in this forest." She took out a knife and carefully dug the mushrooms out of the soil, before putting them in the basket. "Once we have enough of these, we'll head home and I'll wash them before making the soup."

"Won't these be enough?" Henry asked, bored. He didn't care about eating mushrooms; he just wanted this awful day to end. Maybe drown his sorrow in ale…

"Nope, and stop sulking."

Henry glowered. "I never sulk!"

"You are right now." The Gypsy said, calmly. "Now come along…"

After finding more of 'St. George' and another type called 'Puffball', did the two head back. The Gypsy had Henry chop wood for the cook fire while she washed their harvest. Henry bit back a scream, but did as he was asked. Although; the axe was heavy and, as he wasn't used to this type of work, kept missing the log. Which ended up hitting the dirt.

He only got two done, when his 'wife' returned. She made that clicking noise, and surprised him by chopping a log herself. "Use your legs more, when you do this." Was all, she said to him. Along with telling him, to close his open mouth. After the food was prepared and cooking over the fire, Henry slumped to the ground. His muscles ached, his feet were sore still, and his heart was heavy…his mind drifted to his aunt and uncle. _"They must be having dinner now…wonder what they're having? Probably something better than what I'll be eating…"_

He looked over at Oberon, when the horse gave a whinny. The Gypsy had put more hay in the trough, and gave the stallion an apple. While Henry was a good rider, he wasn't sure about the black horse trusting him. He seemed to like the gypsy more, and Henry was certain the animal was glaring at him.

The young man didn't realize the sun was setting, until he felt the cold breeze brush against his cheek. Minutes later; the Gypsy came over and ladled two bowls of the meal for them, and sat close to the fire.

"Come sit by me, husband." She said, patting the spot beside her. "The wind's blowing this way, so the heat won't be robbed from us."

"I can't…my body doesn't want to move." He replied, half-truthfully. "I'm staying right here."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself, but you'll have to move if you want to sleep inside."

How could he forget? He'd be sharing the bed with her…and quite frankly, he'd rather sleep in a thorn bush. "I doubt that cot could hold us both." He muttered. "It'd snap in two-"

"The bed can hold us," The woman interrupted. "But…if you'd rather not sleep there, you can use the floor."

The young man turned to her, with a horrified expression. "The-?! You can't be serious!"

"I am. But it's up to you, husband." Came her reply, in a too sweet manner. She then put out the cook fire, before going inside to light the candle, and prepare for the night.

Henry glared at her and a growl escaped him. _"She's infuriating! My Aunt wasn't this impish…on second hand, they'd be evenly matched. But still!"_ He crossed his arms in anger, and huffed at the thought of either sleeping on the floor of the cart…or try to sleep with his 'wife' in the cot she called a bed. "God's Wounds…why has this befallen me?"

Oberon whinnied again, getting Henry's attention, and tossed his head towards the cart. As if saying 'get inside already', and pawed at the ground with a glare.

"Great…now I'm being told what to do by a horse." Henry groaned, aloud. He got up and went inside the cart to see the Gypsy in a white night shift, and brushing out her dark hair with a wooden comb. The large candle was the only source of light and made the small dwelling glow amber. He went over, catching her attention.

"I was wondering what was keeping you." She said, meeting his eyes. "Have you decided where you'd like to sleep?"

He muttered something that she couldn't hear.

"What was that?"

"I'll use the bed." He repeated, through clenched teeth.

She seemed to slyly smile. "Good. I'll see if I can find a night shift for you-"

"Don't bother. I'll sleep without my shirt." He muttered, while going over to the bed.

"I don't think that's wise," The Gypsy said, while putting her comb away. "It's going to be cold tonight; you won't be warm enou-"

"Goodnight!" Henry snapped, while removing his shirt. He then got into the bed, with his back to her. His actions made the Gypsy shake her head, and blew out the candle before sliding under the blanket beside Henry. Surprisingly; the bed didn't break and could hold them both…but the mattress was stuffed with cotton, not like the ones filled with down Henry was used to. The pillow was the same; it had wool instead of feathers.

Just as the two were drifting off, Henry sat up upon hearing a strange sound. "What's that?!"

"What was 'what'?" The Gypsy asked, drowsily.

"There was a noise-I hear it again!"

The Gypsy listened for a moment, and then chuckled. "It's only an owl, husband."

Henry was thankful the woman couldn't see his face turn red, and scowled. "And that chirping noise?"

"Crickets…it's normal out here. Now rest…"

The prince tried of course; but the combination of the new bed and sounds kept him up all night. Plus, he kept coughing…which hurt his throat as chest terribly. It was just two hours to dawn when he was finally able sleep. However; the Gypsy got up at daybreak, and began to open the window to let the light and fresh air in. "Husband, it's time to get up." Henry didn't move, so she shook his shoulder. "Husband!"

The once-prince groaned and pulled the blanket over his head. "Too early…" There was a moment of silence, before the blanket was yanked off him. "Hey!"

"I said, get up. We have much to do today." The Gypsy said, firmly. "I'm going to prepare breakfast…and you are going to give Oberon his."

"Are you out of your mind?!" He yelled. "I'm not a servant! I don't do manual labor!"

"Seems you forgot; you are no longer a prince or any noble of status." She said, calmly. "You're the same as me…and if you want to eat, you work. So, stop throwing a tantrum and do as you're told." The young woman tossed Henry his shirt, and started to go outside.

"What are you going to do if I don't?!" He taunted. "Make me dance until I drop?"

Ever so slowly, she turned to him; eyes narrowed and burning. "Then I'll turn you over my knee, like the child you are."

"You wouldn't dare-" He began; but was cut off when she got nose to nose, with him again. She moved so fast, it seemed impossible. And found himself unable to move again. What was it about her eyes?

"Just try my patience…I dare you." She said, softly.

Neither moved for a moment; and the world seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see what would happen. He felt really unnerved; the fact that this woman of low class, would punish him like an unruly child…was enough to make him terrified.

Henry dropped his gaze. "Fine."

She gave a curt nod and left the cart, to Henry could dress. Her bare feet making no sound, as she moved. The once-prince sighed, and pulled the shirt over his head. He truly had hoped that he had dreamed the whole events of yesterday…but clearly he wasn't. Luckily; his feet didn't hurt as much anymore and he slipped on his shoes without any trouble. He skipped combing his hair and left the cart, rubbing his arms as a cold breeze greeted him.

The Gypsy was gathering water from the stream, and Oberon was already up and pawing at the ground in an impatient manner. The black stallion whinnied, and Henry rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright…I'm coming!" He went over and grabbed the wooden pitchfork, which was by a few bales of hay near the make-shift fence of the animal's pen. Henry tried to mimic the way the stable boys had done, when they fed the horses. However, it was harder than he thought…and he slipped a few times, while even losing the hay partway to the trough. "Blast it all!"

Oberon whinnied, showing his large teeth. As if laughing at the young man, for making an easy task hard for himself. That only caused Henry to get even more irked, and tossed the pitchfork aside before picking up some hay in his hands. He dumped into the feed trough and smirked. "There! Eat up, beast!"

The horse looked at the food, then back to Henry with a tilt of the head. A bit puzzled…or perhaps judging him.

"Well? Eat!"

Oberon didn't move, just stared at the young man.

"It's not enough."

Henry almost jumped from the voice, and turned to see his 'wife' behind him with a bucket of water. She had one hand on her hip, amusement sparkled in her eyes. He raised a brow. "What are you-?"

"He's saying 'It's not enough'." She said, coming closer. Her slim hand petted the animal's nose. "One handful isn't going to sustain him…the feed trough has to be full."

"I tried. It wouldn't go in!" Henry growled, crossing his arms.

The Gypsy looked at the pitchfork, "Is that so? Show me."

Henry demonstrated how he had been doing it; and the Gypsy tried not to laugh when she pointed out, he had the spikes pointed down and not up. She showed him how to handle it and poured the water into Oberon's water trough. The horse gave a snort and started to eat, munching away without a care in the world.

She then told Henry it was time to eat; and he joined her at the fire pit. The small black pot, hanging over the flames, was full of porridge. The Gypsy ladled it between the two of them, and drizzled honey on top. As the two sat on the log, Henry noticed the symbols on the cart again. They peaked his interest to say the least, but he wasn't that fully interested in most of them. The one that did, however, was the horseshoe above the door. _"Why is that there?"_

"Something on your mind, husband?"

"Huh? Oh…well…I just noticed the horseshoe above the door." He admitted. "Why do you have it?"

"It's a charm." She simply replied. "To ward off evil and bring good luck. Many of the houses have them." After swallowing another spoonful of porridge, the Gypsy began to go over a list of things they had to do: dry herbs, sweep out the cart, wash clothes, etc.

Henry wanted the earth to swallow him up; he felt sick to his stomach about the thought of more work. "I don't know how to do any of those things, so I'll just-"

"You're helping, husband."

"I just said-!" He let out a yelp, when she grabbed his ear. "Oww!

"You're helping. End of discussion."

In the end, Henry had to help with the chores…chopping more wood, braiding strips of leather, and trying to brush Oberon. Who clearly was enjoying, making Henry frustrated. The horse kept moving around, and the young man tried to keep him in one spot. By lunch; he was sore, irritated, and about ready to snap.

A simple meal of bread and dried meat was all they had…not a feast in Henry's eyes, but it was better than nothing. When they finished, his 'wife' went inside the cart to check how much food they had left. And Henry let out his pent-up frustration. "I can't take much more of this!" He snapped, while kicking a stone. "Do this, do that…up at dawn, peasant work…! I should be in the castle training my sword skills, drinking with the men and other things a prince should do! Not this! And you!" He stomped over to Oberon, and shook his fist at him. "You're the worst horse I've ever met! Most would just stand still and let others groom them, but not you! Trouble is what you should be called!"

Oberon snorted and went back to munching on some of the leftover hay. Clearly unbothered by the once-prince's outburst. Which made Henry even angrier. "Don't ignore me you-!"

"Husband."

"WHAT?!" He yelled, whirling around to see his 'wife' coming out of the cart.

She was cleaning her hands, with a damp cloth. "Are you finished, yelling out your woes? Because I suggest you stop or you'll lose your voice."

He fumed, then crossed his arms and sat on the log. He didn't react when his 'wife' sat next to him, just stared at the ground.

"You're still finding your task," She said, softly. "Not everyone finds it at first."

"I don't want to find it…I just want to go back to how things were." Henry growled. "So why should I stay here?!"

"You don't belong to that world, anymore." Was her answer. "If you went back; would you be accepted?"

"Of course I would! The men would be glad to see me…my Aunt would throw a party…and I'd be happy!"

"Are you sure, about that?"

"Yes!"

The Gypsy raised a brow. "Really sure? You don't have any doubts?"

That did it. Henry saw red, and he stormed off into the forest. "I never have doubts! You have no right to think I do!"

"Husband-!"

"Leave me alone!" He stormed through the forest, getting farther from the Gypsy…he was so angry that he didn't care which way he went. After an hour; he slumped against a tree and silently cried about the situation he was now in. It was an odd feeling, for he hadn't cried since he was a child. When he had left childhood behind; he couldn't cry anymore…men didn't weep like maids. _"What's wrong with me? Why do I feel so helpless…? I shouldn't be…but I am…"_

When he calmed down, Henry realized he didn't know where he was. There was no path, landmarks, or anything that looked familiar. "And now I have no idea where I am…great." He got up and started to try and back track his way out; but that ended in getting more lost. To top it off, it was getting darker…not to mention he was getting creeped out. "Ok…understand why she said to be careful…not that there's anything other than wolves, snakes, and deer…" Henry rounded a corner and yelped at a tree; which was burned and hollow. Death Cap mushrooms grew on the bark; almost looking like eyes. "Get a grip, Henry." The forest was clearly getting to him, everywhere he thought he saw something move or a pair of eyes watching his every move…even the wind sounded like a wail. A crow cawed, and the sound of a twig snapping made him almost jump out of his skin. Quickly he found a heavy fallen branch, and held it aloft. "Barbaric but better than nothing." He kept walking until he came to a pond, his thirst was extreme so he kneeled by the edge and drank from his hands…until he sprang back in fright of a face he saw in the water.

Dirt was smeared on one cheek, plain clothes covered his body, dark circles rimmed his ruby eyes, tri-colored hair had twigs and leaves sticking out in different places…lips formed a frown… body thin as a twig…

It took him a moment to realize…it was his refection. But it couldn't be…he wasn't this…this comely…right? " _This can't be real…this…this isn't me! It's not…!"_ Henry thought, bringing a hand to his cheek. To his horror, the image did too. "You're not me…! You're not me!" He suddenly picked up the branch and hit the water over and over, in both fear and anger. It was a trick…a trick of the mind…that's all it was.

After his energy was spent, he slumped to the ground. "The forest is getting to me…I gotta get out…before I go insane."

A splashing reached his ears, and the sound of something struggling. Pushing himself up, Henry saw something moving in the tall reeds. Closer inspection revealed a horse with a gray coat; one of the legs must've been tangled after it slipped in all the mud on this side of the pond. The horse clearly did not like being stuck.

"Easy boy…or girl…just calm down." The once-prince carefully chose where he stepped, so he didn't slip as well. "Stop struggling." Something nagged him in his brain, as he neared the animal…suspicion…why was he feeling that? And why was a shiver going down his spine? "I'll get you out." He put a hand on the horses shoulder to calm it…the horse stilled. "Good horse just-" Wait; why wouldn't his hand…?

The horse suddenly dove underwater. Dragging Henry along.

The said prince, struggled to remove his hand that refused to budge from the horses hide. He finally opened his eyes and his blood froze in his veins. What his hand was sticking to wasn't a horse…while it had nose and head of one; the skin was fish scales, the mane frill-like fins, and the hind legs had a tail replacing it. It was…what was it called again…? The Gypsy's voice rang in his ears **: …lures people into ponds or lakes by pretending to be a horse in trouble...once someone touches it though, it drags them to the bottom…lpie…Kelpie…**

Henry's chest ached, lungs screaming for air as he tried to unstick his hand again…but nothing. To his horror; the Kelpie turned its head and Henry saw a glint of fangs, before they bit his shoulder. His opened in a silent scream, water filling his lungs. Vision swam and the once-prince started to black out. _"Is this how it ends for me…? Devoured by this demon?...Before I did something worthwhile with my life…and made everyone know my name…? I was loved by everyone before this happened…"_

A memory flashed before his eyes, of when he was with his men…

:~*~:

 **They had been drinking in the hall after a long hunt…it had been wonderful…and as he staggered off to bed, drunk, he passed two of the men talking. "Why do we have to put up with him? He's rude to everyone he meets…even us."**

 **"Hush up! You want your head removed from your shoulders? Just put up with it, he'll get his judgement…but not by us!"**

:~*~:

He had shrugged it off as a drunken dream…but now…he realized it was the truth. He wasn't well loved; everyone in the palace, would whisper behind his back about his attitude and manners. This truth slammed into his chest like a spear and turned the flames of his pride to ash.

'Would they accept you?' The golden eyed woman had asked.

 _"No…they wouldn't…"_ Was Henry's last thought as his eyes slowly closed. _"They'd pretend…but in truth they would curse me behind my back…doesn't matter now…"_ He thought he heard a splash above him, but his mind couldn't process anything just now. He did feel the Kelpie release his arm, and it move in award movements…then he was just floating like a leaf…something wrapped around him and pulled him up…he felt cold…earth greeted his nose…

"….ake up…!"

That voice…he knew that voice from somewhere…

"…wake up…"

Something kept pressing on his ribs, as if forcing air back into them.

"…wake up, Husband!"

His eyes opened as he coughed the water from his lungs; getting on his hands and knees, it felt like hours until all the water was out. Henry's body shook as the shock started to course through him. Pain shot through his left shoulder, and he hissed, clamping a hand over it. "Son of a-!"

"You're lucky I found you."

He turned his head to see the Gypsy beside him, her gold eyes gleaming with worry…true concern. Henry blinked when he realized she was dripping wet; her hair and clothes were soaked, there were scratches on her arms and the rose she wore in her locks was missing. After the fog lifted from his brain, did he stutter, "D-Did you…save me?"

"Of course, I did."

"Why? How?!"

She nodded towards something a few steps away. "I saw you get dragged under, so I quickly looked for the bridle-"

"'Bridle'?"

"You can control a Kelpie, if you get the silver bridle over its head." She explained. "They hide 'em well…so it was tricky. But after I found it, I drove after you. It was too focused on you, so it didn't feel me put it on."

Henry followed her gaze and scrambled backwards, upon seeing the Kelpie on the bank. It was tied to a low branch, by the reins of the bridle. From the way it was pulling against it…the creature wasn't happy at all. Just the sight made Henry quake in fear like a child.

"It can't hurt you now as long as the bridle's on." The Gypsy then put a hand on the young man's uninjured shoulder. "And for the 'why' …you should know the answer."

He shook his head, trying to think clearly. "Th-that doesn't make sense…I m-mean….."

"We're husband and wife…we look after each other. Through the good times and bad."

"…I treated you badly…I don't deserve your kindness…"

"You had just left the life you knew; anyone would be angry if everything they recognized, and grew up around was ripped away." Her voice seemed to hold weight, and she turned to the sound of a whinny. It wasn't the Kelpie though. Henry didn't raise his eyes from the ground, so he didn't see someone come up beside him until he was nudged. Startled, he looked over his good shoulder to see Oberon.

"Oberon helped me cover more ground, as I looked for you. He's quite fast." The Gypsy explained, before going to the Kelpie; who clearly wanted to bite her but couldn't. "Relax, now…"

It started thrashing again.

Quick as a cat, she grabbed the reins and got nose to nose with the creature. "Now listen, I'm going to release you…but only once you swear to never harm any of my family and bloodline. Got it?"

The creature nodded.

"And you won't go back on your word?"

It shook its head 'no'. Rather fearfully in fact. A spot on the Kelpie's neck glowed, before the Gypsy untied it. "Good, now get."

To say Henry was practically stunned, would be an understatement…he was gob-smacked! She had faced a water demon…and then just calmly set it free, like one would do with a healed bird?! "Just who is she?"

The Gypsy came back over, and looked at Henry's wound. It was deep, but not to the bone. It would need stitches, but otherwise okay. "You're lucky it didn't take your arm off…" She said, tearing her cloak to create make-shift bandages. "I can heal most things, but even I can't reattach a severed limb."

Henry bit his hip in pain, as she tied it tight to stop the blood. "You…don't have to do this…I can bear it."

"You don't want it to get infected." She replied, before helping him onto Oberon's back. By now the sun was barely visible, and the moon had come into the sky. She got behind Henry, and said a word in 'Galic' before the Horse moved.

"What did you say to him?"

"'Home'." Came her answer. "Oberon knows the way, back."

"How?"

"My Godfather trained him."

Henry would've said more but he felt lightheaded, and rested his head on the horse's neck. There was a half-hour of stillness and crickets…before a shrill-like cry snapped his eyes open. Oberon clearly didn't like it either, and nervously shifted in place. "What's that?"

"Goblins." Came a blunt answer from the woman. "Some are good…but those are rare. Normal goblins are scavengers…and they hate the sun. Also," She petted the horse to calm him, as more of the cries were heard around them. "There's never just one. Don't worry…I'll take care of them."

Henry was about to ask how, when he spied one nearby. It wasn't clear; but he could make out bat-like ears, tusks, and hulking body the size of a twelve year old. He swallowed, finding his throat dry. Then felt the Gypsy put a hand on his back. "I need to stay still, and not move once Oberon starts moving again. Don't even twitch. Do you trust me?"

Whatever she had mind, heard authority in her voice. Which calmed his fear. "Yes. What are you planning?" He heard the Goblins getting closer.

"The one thing 'Goblins' hate." She made Oberon move, and he felt her relax before humming a few notes of a song.

"There's a spark inside us

That we can all ignite

And all that's dark inside us

Will flicker into light."

To his surprise, the creatures froze and trembled. Yes, trembled! Many hid behind others, in panic or covered their ears.

"There's a pow'r in every breath

There's a pow'r in every note

A pow'r that starts within the heart

A pow'r that rises through the throat

And when it sails up through the air

More beautiful than any prayer!

This pow'r could right a wrong

And it will always thrill the ear

Of those who have the pow'r to hear

The magic of this song."

Henry fought the urge to laugh as one Goblin covered his ears with two different rocks; another buried its head in the ground, until another pulled it out and ran with many into the dark shadows. Many scrambled away from them as they headed down the familiar path.

"All that's strong inside us

That tells us wrong from right

Becomes a song inside us

To chase away the night."

She sang the song one more time, and tapped Henry's back to let him know it was safe. "We're nearly there."

"Quite impressive. So…Goblins hate music?"

"Yes. Don't know why…but they hate it."

"Clearly." He chuckled. "I think one of them kept banging its head on a tree."

A giggle escaped her. "Wouldn't surprise me, if it did happen."

The caravan soon came into view and Henry his 'wife' help him inside. She helped him take off his shirt, and cleaned the wound with soapy water and an oil of Frankincense mixed with Lavender to help it heal. The stitches, however; were painful and Henry had to bite back his screams until she was done. As she bandaged his shoulder, he thought back to what he saw in the water…was that really his mind playing a trick? Or had it been real?

"Something on your mind?"

He blinked, as her voice brought him out of his thoughts. "Huh?"

"I asked; what's on your mind?"

"…It's silly, really…you wouldn't believe me."

His 'wife' softly laughed. "After dealing with a Kelpie and a group of Goblins, I doubt it'd be impossible."

"True…" He shifted his weight, on the bed. "Before the…Kelpie…I saw something in the water. It looked like me, but it wasn't…"

She tilted her head in confusion. "How so?"

"I can't really describe it…just that it had my face, hair and eyes."

Her hands gently clasped his own; he felt how warm they were on his cold skin. "In a way, it was you…your inner self."

Henry's head whipped around to look at her. "My inner-? No, it can't be!"

"They say 'water is the mirror, that reflects the heart'. In some cases; many can see their souls in water. But it's rare…"

"It couldn't…!" He started to stand up, but nausea overcame him and he sat back down. "It had leaves and twigs in the hair, body was thin…!"

"Calm down, you mustn't get worked up. Or your body will become sick from the strain." She rubbed his back, in small circles. "Please, husband."

He took a few deep breaths and felt his limbs become heavy. The crimson-eyed man didn't feel his body lay down, with the gypsy guiding him.

"Rest. You need it."

As if waiting for that order, his eyes closed and succumbed to a dreamless sleep.

:~*~:

 **Authors Note:** Henry sure got the scare of his life, and I think he sees the Gypsy a differently now. The song she sang was from the movie 'THE PRINCESS AND THE GOBLIN'. A very beautiful song. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, if so please leave a review.


	5. Chapter 5

:~*~:

The nights came with bitter winds, often threatening to turn the caravan over. Clouds; heavy with rain, hid the moon, and released their burden onto the earth. Leaves, turning brown and brittle; were knocked to the ground…hiding many burrows and dens of animals. Rivers swelled, ponds became larger as well as deeper…streams grew and filled with fish.

But it was unnoticed; as the gypsy spent those days, tending to Henry. Who had started running a fever, the day after his brush with the Kelpie…and it didn't help his coughing one bit. He'd shake with cold and sweat would dot his brow, Henry also would cough hard and, at times, some blood would appear on his hand.

His 'wife' mopped his forehead, and fed him spoonful's of Beef Broth, and helped him sip some water. Never leaving his side, and humming an Irish Lullaby to calm him down when his coughing would make him curl up into a ball.

Five days after; Henry finally opened his eyes and blurrily looked around. He tried to get up, but a wave of nausea hit him like a punch in the face. The once-prince groaned as his head pounded…as if a blacksmith had used it in place of an anvil. Once his vision cleared, Henry saw the Gypsy sleeping against the bed. She looked exhausted and an empty bowl of broth was beside her. Garrett eyes blinked in surprise, _"Did she…stay up these many days? Just for me?"_ He laid a hand on hers, causing her to stir.

When she saw him awake; the gypsy smiled in relief. "You're awake…gave me a scare a few times." She felt his forehead, then neck with the back of her hand. After nodding, she added, "Your fever's gone down…I'm glad it wasn't smallpox."

"You…tended to me?" He asked, voice hoarse.

She nodded again. "Of course, I did. What kind of 'wife' leaves her husband to suffer so?"

"But there's…no physician…for miles…"

The Gypsy chuckled. "I'm the 'physician'…or Healer as they call me around here." She helped Henry sit up and lean against the pillow. "There aren't many of us around here, so whoever can fill the spot can become the next. Even an apprentice."

"Were you…an apprentice?"

"My Guardian, Godfather; was the Healer for Queen Ravenhair's village." She went over to a shelf, and took down a few clay jars and glass bottles. "I took up the job when he was sent to England…"

"Why?"

"He was very skilled with his work…so when word reached the army about it, they took him. He went calmly…but…I could see the storm in his eyes." She mentally slapped herself, and changed the subject. "Enough of sad stories…does your shoulder still hurt?"

Henry looked at the bite, it didn't look as bad as it had been. Plus, it didn't hurt as much either. "Not really…"

The Gypsy's fingers gently ran over the stitches and tapped a few spots. "It held up well…won't need to re-do it. Another week and the stitches can be removed." She then put some liquid on a cloth, and dabbed it on the bite. "There we go."

"Is that…Lavender oil?"

"Mixed with Frankincense. It helps healing." The Gypsy replied. "When you were feverish…your wound still bled. Luckily I wasn't out of Helichrysum-"

"Heli-what now?"

"'Helichrysum'. It's an herb that helps the blood clot from cuts, and certain types of wounds." She answered. "You can't use it on internal wounds…but it's good to have around. Anyway; a few drops on the bite and it stopped. It'll be a while before you can lift anything heavy with this arm though."

Henry looked down at his hand, and flexed his fingers. "I'll manage. How long…was I-?" He covered a cough, which aggravated his raw throat. His 'wife' rubbed his back, until he stopped. A few specks of blood dotted his lips, which she dabbed away. "…was I out?" He finished.

"Almost a week. But after escaping death by drowning, I'm not surprised."

He raised a brow. "Does anything…surprise you?"

"Maybe." She teased. After putting the oil away, she left the cart to heat up buckets of water. She poured it into a large tub that was inside the cart, when it was ready. Also adding a few herb to it; which was Chamomile, before guiding Henry over to it. She pulled the sheet curtain around him so he could have privacy, after asking if he needed help getting undressing. Which was a no.

Henry had to mentally sigh when got in the water; the steam combined with the herb helped him breathe a bit easier. The Gypsy took his clothes to wash them, and left a bar of soap for him to use. The once-prince took his time, getting his hair and carefully washed around his wound. Surprisingly…the soap had a smoky scent to it along with lavender bits mixed in. But he found himself liking it more than the strong cedar the servants always used on him. After a while, his 'wife' returned and slid some fresh clothes under the curtain. It was made of the same material as the ones before. Plus a towel to dry off.

"Do you need help getting out?" She asked, from behind the curtain.

"No…I…I can manage." He rasped out.

"Alright. I'll be right here if you need help."

Henry braced himself by gripping the tub's rim and pushed himself up to stand. Vision swam and he closed his eyes to let it pass, before grabbing the towel and drying off. Although he had to stop once and a while, as his shoulder protested from a certain way he moved it. Sighing, he looked at his 'wife's silhouette and tapped her shoulder. She peeled the curtain back a bit, and Henry covered himself out of routine.

"Yes?"

"I…need help…"

The woman came over, and assisted the young man; in drying off his back and hair with another towel. He blushed a bit, as he would usually do it himself. But with his shoulder still healing, he would need a hand in some things. Like putting on his shirt. Which she did without berating him, or laughing. Once he was dressed; he got back in the bed with a few pillows to support his head up. The Gypsy surprised him by taking her comb and running it through his hair…while he would've told her he could do it…the once-prince found himself enjoying how she gently got the knots and tangles out. When she finished, he let her guide him to lie down. "There we go; I bet you feel better now, that you've gotten cleaned up."

"A bit." He rasped.

The Gypsy patted his hand; while brushing his golden bangs, away from his eyes. "Just rest a while. I'll go make you some tea, to help your throat heal." She made sure he was covered with the blanket, then left the cart. As Henry lay there; he noticed that he was more relaxed, than he ever had been. _"Strange...why am I like this? Normally I'd be rushing out of bed...to get away from those fraud physicians. But I don't need to about them anymore, do I?_ "

His 'wife' re-entered with a small iron pot; a sweet smell was wafting from it. She ladled some of the pots contents into a wooden cup, then brought it over to Henry. "You'll need to drink this down." She told him. "Not all at once, of course. But the cup must be empty by tonight."

He nodded, and gave it a weary look. "It doesn't have...sawdust in it...does it?"

"Heavens no...that's disgusting! Why would-wait...did the palace physicians, try to make you take something like that?"

Henry nodded. "When I was...sick...they'd try to make...me drink their...awful potions."

The Gypsy shook her head, in disgust. "Lord of Heaven, what were they thinking? Anyway; I swear that there's no sawdust or anything else like that in this. Only stuff I used is Licorice Root, Ginger, and Honey." She raised the cup to his lips, and helped him drink a bit. Luckily; the tea wasn't scalding hot, but it still stung Henry's tongue a little. "You'll lose that cough in about a week. Less if you stay in bed for a while."

He finished drinking for the moment, and sighed as his body relaxed. "That...tasted pretty good."

Both of them chuckled a bit, and then she left to feed Oberon as well hang up the laundry. Henry closed his eyes and felt tired again, even though he had slept for a few days already...his body told him to sleep more. He decided to obey and drifted off, succumbing to dreamless oblivion once more. When he woke again, he saw his 'wife' crushing herbs with a pestle in a mortar. Her black hair was held back with a strip of tan colored cloth. He cleared his throat to get her attention, causing a smile to grace her face when she saw him awake. To his surprise, he found himself smiling as well. The Gypsy came over, and sat on the edge of the bed...every movement graceful. "You slept for a while, husband." She said, softly. "It's past noon now."

"Really?" He rasped.

A nod was the only answer she gave, before chucking the stitches on his shoulder. After confirming they were still holding, she handed Henry the wooden cup. He allowed her to help him drink again; while the contents were cold...it still tasted good. Although he preferred it warm. Not realizing how thirsty he was; Henry drank half the cup which surprised them both. He started to cough again, though not as harsh as before. His 'wife' went to a shelf and took up a small clay jar, before bringing it back to him. Wordlessly; she undid the ties on the front that kept his shirt closed...then dripped her fingers in the jar, before rubbing an oil on his chest. The scent of Eucalyptus greeted his nose, and once more helped him breathe. "Thanks." He whispered, truly meaning it.

Another smile appeared on her face. "You're quite welcome."

A growl from Henry's stomach, made them both blink in surprise. The young man's cheeks went red, and the young woman fought the urge to laugh. "Well...someone's got their appetite back. I'll get you something easy to swallow; porridge or soup?"

"I guess...Porridge?"

"Good choice." The young woman said, with a wink that made Henry's cheeks go darker. "I'll go start making it. Think you can sit up?"

"I think so..." He slowly turned on his side, and pushed himself up. Nausea made his vision blur again, but not as harsh as it had been before. Once some pillows were put behind his back, was he able to be eye to eye with her. The moment he was, however, he became lost in her golden eyes.

"Are you ok?"

Henry was snapped back to reality, and shook his head to clear it. "Yes...I'm fine. Just...dizzy."

"All right. I'll go make the porridge." She started to get up, when a knock was heard. "Wonder who that could be?"

A few more knocks were heard, before a voice asked, "Is the Forest Lady, in?"

The Gypsy crossed the room, to the door. She paused when her hand, touched the door handle. "Who seeks the Forest's help?"

"One who keeps to the old ways, and drinks its mysteries." Came the reply.

She opened the door, and a teenage boy with tussled brown hair entered. He carried a sack over his shoulder, and his clothes were dusty from the road. Dried mud was caked on his shirt, along with his hands, and Henry could've sworn he heard oinking outside.

"Nathaniel." The Gypsy said, nodding 'hello'. "What brings you to my home? Has your mother taken a turn?"

"Just passing, miss. And Ma has recovered well, thanks to you." The boy replied, taking off his hat. "I brought you somethin' in thanks." He held out the sack. "Please, take some. The hog found so much I can't carry it all."

Henry blinked, so there was a pig outside. But at the same time, why was it traveling with Nathaniel?

"How thoughtful of you, Nathaniel." She brought over a basket, and took out some oddly-shaped brown orbs. "These will come very handy for stew."

"By the way, miss...my Ma's worried about my sister's cough. She hates the cod-liver oil, and the other stuff we tried...you have anything that might work?"

"As a matter of fact I do. Wait a moment." She put the basket down, and poured some something into a small pouch. "Have your sister drink, a spoonful of this for a week. Brew it into a tea, and add honey to it if you want." The Gypsy gave it to Nathaniel. "If her coughs get worse after a week, bring her here and I'll have a look at her."

"Thank you, miss. God bless you." He gave a bow, and then left. Taking the pig outside with him.

She closed the door and smiled at Henry. "Nathaniel owns a farm near the village. He's a good boy, even though he likes spending more time with animals than people." The Gypsy showed him the basket. "It was sweet of him to give these Truffles. He didn't have to repay me for helping his mother, but still…"

 _"Truffles…? Now the pig makes sense. But…"_ He squinted at the basket's contents. "They don't look…like the ones…I've seen." Henry whispered, so he didn't strain his voice too much.

"That's because they're still covered in dirt. Once I wash them, they'll be recognizable." She put the basket on a shelf, then went outside to make the fire to cook the porridge. Oberon whinnied, when she left the cart and the once-prince heard her speak in Gaelic again…before he heard the clank of wood being put in the fire pit.

He grabbed the wooden cup and finished the contents. _"If only the Palace Physicians made their remedies taste this good…then I'd never have to worry if they're trying to poison me. Or put Leeches on me. Lord only knows, how much I hate it when they use the pests…"_ He put the cup back down, and closed his eyes for a moment. _"I wonder what everyone's doing back at the palace? Knowing my aunt she's planning the next social gathering and giving the tailors grief…Joey would be in his study looking over the reports and whatnot._ _Do they…do they miss me, at all?"_

He let out a sigh, and pushed the thought away. The sound of quiet stream reached his ears, putting him at ease. How long he listened to it, Henry didn't know…his eyes only opened when he heard a creak of the wood when the Gypsy came back inside. A wooden bowl of porridge in her hands, along with a spoon. "Sorry to keep you waiting, husband." She said, sitting on the bed again.

Henry shook his head. "Not long…at all." He took the bowl and spoon from her, and slowly ate. It was still hot, and he nearly burned his tongue, but it was delicious nonetheless. He found that his 'wife' put cinnamon in it, which was his favorite. When the bowl was empty, Henry looked at the woman and asked the question that had been bothering him. "Why did…Nathaniel call you…'Forest Lady'?"

"That's the name I go by…when I heal those who seek my aid." Came her response. "Some call me a 'Child of Trees'. They never use my real name, when I do my work. But it's natural when your Mother was a Druid."

If Henry was standing, he would've sunk down on to a stool or chair. She was a Druid? Or rather a descendant of one? Like 'Queen Raverhair'? He swallowed, nervously. _"Well…that explains the Kelpie's fear…"_ He bit his lip, "So…you do 'magic'?"

A laugh escaped her, before she shook her head. "Not the kind you're thinking…we're different from witches. We use the blessings of Nature to help those in need; whether it's bringing life into the world…helping the sick…or dealing with troublesome fey."

"But the Kelpie-"

"Oh him…yes, he was afraid of me. Only the reason was, he was worried I'd enslave him. You've heard stories of Knights or Heroes or others who capture fey beings and make them their servants?"

Henry made a 'so-so' motion with his hand.

"Some of them treat the those creatures terribly…branding them in iron chains or forcing them to fight their battles…so, I can understand why the Kelpie was afraid. But if you best them, like I did, and free them…they can or will grant you a favor. I asked that 'water horse' to never harm any of those of my bloodline." She put a hand on Henry's uninjured shoulder. "Which also means you too."

Henry looked at her, and would've said something if his lungs hadn't pick that moment to make him cough. He felt his 'wife's hand rub his back to ease the tensed muscles, until he calmed. She then took the empty bowl from him and went to go wash it, leaving him lost in his thoughts. _"She's being so kind to me…even though she had every reason to let the creature eat me, after the way I acted towards her. And could've let me also roll around in agony with that fever, while lifting a finger…but…she didn't. Making her saving my life twice."_ He softly sighed. _"Perhaps, I judged too quickly?"_ An amused laugh mentally rolled through his head. _"Never thought I'd ever think that…guess I owe Joey those five pounds, if I see him again._ " He saw the gypsy enter again, with the small iron pot. And knew from the smell of Licorice, she had made more of the tea. Which was good, as his throat was starting to hurt again. She also brought in a second pot; this one had the leftover porridge. Upon seeing the evening sunlight, Henry thought of something; where was she going to sleep?

"Where will you rest?" He asked, still whispering.

"In the chair. I've done it many times, and once you're better I'll wash the bedding and blanket." Was her answer. "And you can't sway me from not doing it."

"But-"

She held up her hand, stopping him from saying more. "If you'd rather I'd not…I'll sleep either on the floor or sitting up at the end of the bed. Which you'd you prefer?"

He thought a minute, and pointed to the end of the bed. "There."

"Alright. Now then, here's a little more of the tea that was left. I had to re-heat it, so it's not as hot." She handed him the cup. As he took it, the wind started to pick up again…making the cart groan like a ship on the sea. "Another windy night, not surprising really around this time of the year…"

"Always, like this?" Henry asked, having a sip of the warm tea. He closed his eyes, in bliss as it not only soothed his throat…but warmed him up as well.

"Yes. As a wee lass; I thought the wind would whisk away, the house I lived in, with my Godpa." She chuckled. "He'd only say; 'Just the Wind; making sure all know the season of ice, be a comin' dear one'." Another groan from the cart, added to her point. She quickly popped out; to make sure Oberon's makeshift shelter was tied down good, and then started making the end of the bed ready for when she would sleep there. To pass the time, she took out Henry's shirt that he had worn when he was dragged into the pond. There were great tears in the left shoulder, from where the Kelpie had bit. The Gypsy began to mend it, using thread the same color as the shirt. Henry dozed in and out, only waking up to either drink more of the tea or to relieve himself. The latter he needed help with; while there wasn't a chamber pot to use, he had to use a bucket that his wife would empty in the woods. Then clean it thoroughly so it could be used again. Course his face was flushed in embarrassment, the first few times. But after hearing she did this many times, when helping others who were bedridden; he didn't mind so much.

The night fell upon them, sooner than they thought. And they both soon turned in, for what should have been a peaceful sleep. But fate wasn't on their side, as many times it isn't. Around midnight, the Gypsy was woken by heavy coughing and lit the candle quickly. She saw Henry trying to not let himself been seen by the glow. "Husband? What is it?"

"Noth-nothing…" He rasped, panting. "I didn't mean to…wake you up."

"You have nothing to apologize for," She soothed, sitting beside him. "I stay up when I look after those in my care." She put her hand on his, rubbing the back of it with her thumb. To her surprise, she found him trembling. "Are you alright? Is your fever back?" No reply. "Husband, Henry; look at me."

Hearing his name from her lips; made him face her. Ruby eyes shimmering in the dim light, almost child-like. "You said…my name…" He rasped. "I thought…oh, please…say-say it again…"

She gave a soft smile, and placed her other hand on his brow. "Henry." Her smile deepened as he sighed, from hearing his name again. "Shh, it's alright. I'm here." The Gypsy felt cold sweat on his face, and gave his hand a light squeeze. "Are you cold?"

"No, I think my cough…helped me."

"How?"

Red eyes opened and locked on hers. "Bad dream."

The young woman nodded, and pulled the covers around him. "It's over now, try and go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up." She sang the same lullaby, like she had done when he was struck with the fever. It helped him return to a dreamless slumber, allowing the two to sleep the rest of the night.

She sang the same lullaby, like she had done when he was struck with the fever. It helped him return to a dreamless slumber, allowing the two to sleep the rest of the night.

Come morning, Henry woke to the sound of the pestle being used again. He noticed that his chest wasn't in much pain, as it had been the past few days. Same for his throat, as a matter of fact. He raised himself up in his elbows to see his 'wife', grounding ginger or some other kind of root. He cleared his throat, making her turn. "Morning." He rasped.

"Same here," Came her reply. "How do you feel?"

"Better...but my throat's still sore."

She sat on the edge of the bed, and patted his hand. "At least you can breathe easier...and you're less pale. Getting some color back, in your cheeks."

"Really?"

"Oh yes." The young woman, rubbed his good shoulder. "You wanna talk about your dream? You mentioned last night; that your coughing helped you wake up from it."

Henry let out a heavy sigh. "It was more of a memory...than a dream. One I thought I could, forget." He took the cup from the side table, and sipped the last of the cold tea. "You might have guessed, I've...never been really healthy...many times I'd be poked and prodded by the those who'd call themselves physicians. It was worse when I was younger...I'd be bedridden for days."

The Gypsy held his hand. "I'm sorry you went through that. And at such a young age."

"Thanks." He suddenly yelped as a twinge of pain rocketed down his healing shoulder. "Bloody He-"

She covered his mouth. "I wouldn't say that aloud, if I were you. Never know who might be listening..."

"R-Right." He said, mouth still covered until she removed her hand. "Sorry."

The Gypsy gave a nod of understanding, then grabbed the oils she used before and a clean rag. Henry let her help get his shirt off, so she could have access to his hurt shoulder. But her eyes were drawn to a pale mark below his elbow...there were a few more on his other arm in the same place. They clearly weren't made from a battle or sword training. "What happened here?"

"Nothing. Just marks from blood-letting."

Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open in terror. "By God!"

"It's fine-"

"No it's not!" She yelled, surprising him. "Those fat-kidney-ed idiots! They could've killed you! Blood is what keeps us alive...for them to do that, makes them no better than leeches!"

Henry burst out laughing at the last part. "Finally! Someone else thinks so!" He calmed down when he saw her worried expression. "You're serious about the 'blood-thing'?"

"Yes! Henry...you'd have been killed, if they kept making you bleed."

He swallowed, "But the bad blood-"

"There's no such thing." She said, while putting the oil on the rag. "If you've been poisoned, then leeches would be put on to try and drain it out. Aside from the cure made of herbs." Gently, she patted the healing bite. "But to just make you bleed, when you need blood to survive...that's a call to the Dullahan's to come and take you to the other side."

Henry let her words imprint in his brain...if he had been bit while still at the castle, then he would've been dead by now. _"God's Wounds...she's right. If I had been feverish back at the castle, who knows what they've had done to me."_ He looked at the woman, and realized something. "You know my name...but I still don't know yours."

"I was wondering when you'd ask." The Gypsy said, with a soft smile. "It's Anna."

"'Anna'. Fits you."

A chuckle came from her, and she raised a brow. "Sweet talkin' me, eh? You're certainly getting better."

Laughter both erupted from both of them, and Henry let Anna finish.

:~*~:

A week later; Henry no longer had to worry, about coughing. Plus his shoulder was fully healed, and the stitches could be removed. During the time in bed, his 'wife'; Anna, told him stories of old and watch when others came for her remedies. The tea was helping his throat...through it was still tender.

On the day Henry could get out of the bed, Anna put an ear to his back and listened to his lungs. Once she was sure he wasn't raspy, did he say he could move around. She giggled at seeing him bound out of bed, and to the tub of warm water she had prepared.

Once cleaned up, he dressed and went outside. Crisp air met him, and Oberon whinnied in irritation of not having his meal yet. Henry rolled his eyes, _"Of course..."_ He took a deep breath, and grabbed the pitchfork. Luckily he remembered how Anna did it, and soon had the trough full. Oberon gave Henry a long look, then snorted as if saying 'Bout time you figured it out'.

"There's no pleasing you, is there?" Henry muttered, crossing his arms.

"Ho there! Young man!"

The once-prince turned to see a Friar coming towards him, pulling a wagon behind him. Brown robes were dusty from travel, a wooden cross dangled from his rope belt, and his face was flushed pink. "Is Anna at home?"

"Depends whose asking, good sir." Came Henry's reply.

The Friar let go of the wagon, and tried to catch his breath. "A friend of her Godfather..."

Henry raised a brow, but went to the cart's door and poked his head inside. He saw her stripping the bed, to wash the sheets and blankets. "Anna? There's someone to see you."

"Who?"

"Says he's a friend of your Godfather."

Anna came outside and saw the Friar, before smiling and greeting him with a hug. "Brother Paul! How have you been?"

"Well, dear lady. And you're still lovely as ever." Came the Friar's reply. "I've come at the request of Brother Samuel...he's received a letter from your Guardian. With the rouge soldiers around, it's not safe to bring it on the road. You must come to the church."

"Of course, I'll hook up Oberon to the wagon." She said, happily. "I still can't believe you pulled that thing all the way here."

As she readied the horse, Brother Paul turned to Henry. "Sorry if you'd come for a cure...might have to return tomorrow-"

"Actually I live here."

"Eh? Are you an apprentice?"

"I guess-"

"All set, Brother Paul." Came her voice. "I'll lock the door and then we'll go."

The Friar clapped his hands, in joy. And started to get in the wagon; which had empty baskets and a few water jugs. Among them was thin blanket. "Come, come...mustn't dawdle."

Anna let Henry help her into the wagon, and sat next to them as they started off. The road through the glen was peaceful, and after twenty minutes the group arrived at a modest church of white stone with a rock fence. A few other Friars were working in the garden, grinding flour or going into rooms with scrolls and books. A couple looked up and waved, as the three entered. One of the Friar's who seemed to be the oldest and head of the church, looked up from the plant he was tending to in the garden. His white beard was trimmed and combed, his brown eyes twinkled, and a smile formed upon seeing who it was. Anna didn't wait until the wagon stopped to get out, and ran up to the elder with a hug. "Brother Samuel! Is it true?! A letter from my Godpa?!"

Brother Samuel laughed, and patted her hand. "Yes, my child. It arrived early this morning…and I see you've brought a friend."

Anna turned to see Henry walking up, and nodded. "Yes. This is Henry…my husband."

"Husband? When did that happen?!" Brother Paul asked, almost giddy.

Henry smiled, but gave a sigh. "It's a long story…"

Brother Samuel chuckled. "Well…we have all the time in the world to hear. Come with me to my chamber, and I'll get the letter while you tell me how you both met." He asked Brother Paul to send word to the kitchen to bring some bread and cheese to his room. Along with some tea.

Walking through the grounds, Henry took note of the many men doing numerous chores. While most were scribbling away in the Scriptorium; creating illustrations and books by hand. The smell of bread being made reached his nose…and made his mouth water. Upon reaching the hall where the room was; Anna asked for water and cleaned her feet, Henry raised a brow when she motioned for him to do the same. He took off his shoes, and was a bit surprised to see some dust on his feet. Nonetheless; he quickly cleaned his feet and the bottom of his shoes, before following Brother Samuel inside his chamber.

The room was simple; with a bed, some shelves, a desk, small table, chair and a fireplace. The desk had many papers in piles, maps, and at least four quills in the inkwell. A high window showed a view of the sky. The stone floor was certainly warm, despite the autumn chill. Brother Samuel gestured for Anna to sit in the chair, and pulled the stool over for Henry.

"The messenger bird came earlier this morning." The elder said, while pulling a small scroll of paper off his desk. It was sealed with a tiny drop of purple wax. "When I realized it was from John, I had Brother Paul fetch you. I knew you'd want to read it as soon as possible."

Anna opened the scroll; and started to read the contents. Henry snuck a glance at the page, seeing the words were in Gaelic. After a few minutes of quiet, her lips formed a smile. "He's safe…thank God. Godpa's far from the field of battle; working to treat the soldiers, who need extreme care. He misses me so much…and asks for me and the others to pray for his safety, Brother Samuel."

"And so we will. He's a good man, shouldn't have been taken away like he was."

A knock at the door, made Brother Samuel pause and have the person enter. Another Friar; clearly new, came in with a wooden try of cheese and bread. Along with a clay pot of tea, and cups. "Thank you, my son. You may return to your chores."

The young Friar nodded, and put the tray on the table before leaving them alone. Brother Samuel started to pour the tea, and asked. "You must tell me how you gained a spouse, Anna."

"Always to the point, Brother Samuel." She laughed, while cutting a slice of bread before passing it to Henry. "But I think my husband should."

A blush dusted his cheeks, but he told how he and Anna became 'husband and wife'. From her coming to the castle, to his aunt keeping her oath and the events that followed. Including his encounter with the Kelpie. "…And now here we are, meeting with you."

Brother Samuel, who had been silent the whole time, nodded in acknowledgement. "Well, you've had quite the number of changes, young man. New home, new way of life and a near-death experience. Not many can go through all that." He rubbed his hands, together. "Now, while I'm happy for you both…I'm sad to say you're not…exactly…married."

 _"Huh?"_ Henry blinked.

"What do you mean Brother Samuel?"

The elder sighed. "As the marriage was rushed, did the two of you sign a record book? Or exchange vows?"

Both looked at each other, then realized…they hadn't been asked to sign the book as proof of their union. Or vows. Anna swallowed. "We…weren't asked to. But as Henry said; 'they rushed us'. So I guess this means…we're not?"

"Well not legally. But we can fix that of course, I can marry you both now…or at a day of your choosing."

Anna looked at Henry, with concern. "What should we do?"

"I…I don't know."

Brother Samuel moved towards the door. "I'll let the two of you talk this over. Should you need me, I'll be just outside the door."

It was after the door closed, that put his head in his hands. The Countess had made the ceremony so quick, so to think she forgot an important detail, was almost unthinkable. To know that he was with Anna and led to the assumption they were married…was a low blow.

"Henry?"

He looked up, his eyes locking with hers. Anna's face was worried, and he couldn't blame her. "Well…this is fine mess. We both thought-"

"I know…so, what should be done? I mean, you could go back to the castle…if you wanted…now that you're not bound to me."

The young man softly laughed, "I doubt they'd let me back inside. My aunt won't believe it, so…I'm stuck. And even if she did; I'd be married off to next gypsy that came to the door. So, that leaves one thing." He took her hands in his. "We do it again. The right way this time."

"You really mean that?"

He nodded, "Of course that means you'll have to teach me more of this way of life."

She smiled. "You bet I will. And we'll learn more about each other. When should we-?"

"You decide."

Anna thought a moment, then grinned. "When the Harvest Moon is brightest." Then added, "That's in November."

Henry kissed her hands, "November it is. Three months away…"

"I can't wait. We should tell Brother Samuel." She replied, while getting up. Leading Henry behind her.

After telling Brother Samuel their choice and accepting his congratulations, did a loud squawking and honking of the geese reach their ears. A group of boys were chasing the flock, trying to harvest the feathers for more quills. And following the boys; were Bother Paul and another Friar. "After 'em, lads!"-"Don't let them get away!"-"Cut 'em off, ahead!"

Anna laughed. "Never a dull moment around here."

"Aye, lass. But…I could do without the goose chase." The elder chuckled. "While the two of you are here; I have a favor to ask you. Well; two actually."

Henry raised a brow. "What 'kind' of favors?"

"Nothing severe, I promise you. The first is; I'll be needing more of your Hawthorn Wine, Anna. Been helping with my cholesterol."

"Of course, I was going to start bottling tomorrow. Just send one of the Friars to pick some up."

He bowed his head in gratitude. "Wonderful! The second is…well, perhaps I should show you. Follow me."

The two followed Brother Samuel into the barn, where they kept a donkey and a two sheep. In an empty stall, did the elder motion for them to look inside. There, nestled in a pile of hay…was a large dog. It was fawn colored with black stripes, and almost as long as Henry when stretched out long ways. One of its large paws was bandaged and it looked up with amber eyes at them.

"That's the biggest dog I've ever seen." Henry muttered.

"He's magnificent!" Anna whispered. "Who does he belong to?"

"No one sadly." Brother Samuel replied. "He showed up out of nowhere, a few days ago. Badly hurt. He lead me and few other's to his master, a hunter…the poor man also had injuries. From a deer he said, a buck. Not life threatening, but he was terribly old. Didn't last the night…which left us with his friend here. He's proven to be a good guard dog; scared off a couple of wolves from the geese pen, along with a fox last night. But…he eats more than us. Almost the whole larder is gone, now that he's a bit better." He turned to Anna and Henry. "So, perhaps you both could give him a home? I know I'm asking a lot…but you're his last hope. No one wants a large dog this size."

The dog got up, and limped over to the three, tail wagging slowly. Anna reached out and patted the dog's large head, earning a lick on her cheek. "Aww…he's sweet."

"What kind of dog is it?" Henry asked. "I've never seen this breed."

Brother Samuel gave a smile. "He's a Bullmastiff. We used them for battle and hunting."

"Does he have a name?" Anna asked, scratching the animal behind the ear.

"'Eumann'."

"'Protector'. Fits him well…I think we have room for this big guy."

Henry's eyes went huge. "Hold on a minute! Will he even fit in the caravan?! He's so…big!"

Anna gave a sly smile. "He can sleep at the end of the bed. And if not…we'll make a bed for him on the floor." She gave Eumann a hug. "Besides, if you go hunting later on in the fields…or we go pick mushrooms again…he can help keep us safe."

Henry sighed in defeat. "When you put it like that, it makes sense. Sort of."

The Mastiff gave a happy bark, and his tail wagged like mad. He limped over to Henry, and licked his hand. To which; Henry had to grin. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea. He did like dogs, back at the castle he couldn't play with the hunting ones much. _"Perhaps this could be a way to make up for all that?"_

:~*~:

 _ **Author's Note:** _During this time in history; not much was known about the human body and what to do to cure illness's. Things like what Henry mentioned were used because that thought it would cure the patient. Also 'Blood Letting' was also a 'treatment': where the doctor would make a cut on the inside of the arm and have you 'literary' bleed into the bowl to get rid of the "bad blood". (Not many survived this, sadly)


	6. Chapter 6

...

Brother Samuel had Brother Paul hook the donkey up to the cart, so Eumann could ride back to the caravan. That way, the Friar could bring the cart back. Anna and Henry rode Oberon, making sure to go at a trot so the donkey wouldn't have to run to keep up. The whole trip; Eumann clearly enjoy the ride, panting and wagging his tail.

Once home, Anna helped Eumann out of the cart and Henry put Oberon in his pen. The horse was a bit curious about the dog…and the dog about the horse. The three humans watched as Oberon and Eumann sniffed each other, then relaxed. In fact; Oberon let the canine drink from his trough.

"Seems all will be well." Brother Paul said, merrily. "I'll be back tomorrow for the Hawthorn Wine, Forest Lady."

Anna gave him a hug, and Henry shook his hand before the good Friar left. The once-prince blushed when his stomach growled for lunch, and Anna laughed. "I'll get some of the Truffles; we'll roast them over the fire. Can you get the fire started?"

"Sure." He grabbed some of the wood and arranged them in the fire pit. Eumann limped up and flopped beside him, as Henry started the fire. The large dog then put his head on Henry's knee, when the young man sat down…clearly happy. Henry petted Eumann's head, "You like it here, huh? I bet you were going stir-crazy in that stable."

Anna came back out and skewered some of the Truffles, on a stick before handing Henry his. As they cooked, the gypsy told Henry of the field where he could go hunt. "There are a few rabbits, and some pheasants…so you should have some luck there. Sadly, I can't give you a weapon other than a knife…"

"I'll manage…I can always make-shift one."

"And you've got this big guy. Brother Samuel said; Eumann's former owner used Gaelic words as commands for hunting. I could teach you what they are, if you'd like. Considering I speak it a lot."

Henry nodded. "I'd prefer that actually."

"Then we'll start tomorrow. For now…let's eat. And this is for you, Eumann." The Irish maiden gave the dog a deer antler, which had the sharp points cut off. The large dog happily chewed it, while keeping the item between his paws. "Usually, I keep these to throw to the wolves. So they can take something other than a bite out of me."

Henry bit into the roasted Truffle, finding it tasted pretty good roasted and not drowned in wine or gravy. "I may have to carry some with me, as well. But it's odd…I haven't seen any wolves."

"Oh they're here. Just hiding and watching…they won't harm you unless you give them a reason to." Anna tied back her hair with the beige strip of cloth, and blew on her Truffle to cool it a bit. "That's no reason to be cocky through."

"After almost being eaten by a water-horse, I know not to tempt or taunt death. I do wonder through…"

"About what?"

"There was this Stag I was hunting…he would've been mine, if he hadn't gone into the 'Druid's Forest'. I wanted to follow, but the Game Master stopped me." Henry finished his Truffle. "He said the forest was protected, and that man shouldn't hunt or venture there."

Anna nodded. "He was right; no animal can be hunted by man in there. Only by nature's predators…if man does brake that law by spilling blood of both human and beast, well, then they are punished."

"How?"

Her face became unreadable. "No one speaks of it; which means 'you don't want to know'."

Henry swallowed nervously, and looked at the woods behind him, out of the corner of his eye. _"Note to self…don't lose your head in the forest."_ He cleared his throat, and tossed the stick the Truffle had been on into the fire. "What are we to do, today?"

"I have to wash the bedding, and if you want to start making your bow you may." Came her answer. "I have to dry out some more daisies, and start bottling the Hawthorn Wine too."

He turned to her. "Is there anything else I can do to help?"

She tapped her finger, on her knee. "Well…I suppose you can roll up, the cut cloth for bandages."

After agreeing; the two went about the chores. Anna gave Henry a basket of cloth strips, and showed him how to roll them up. She then took the bedding to the stream to wash, after setting up a clothes line. Eumman made short work of his treat, then limped over to Oberon's pen and laid down in the hay to rest. The once-prince amusingly shook his head, and went back to his task. When he had finished, Henry put the basket back inside and looked up at the branches of the trees around them. He needed one to make a bow…however; the branch had to be at least already broken a bit.

Last thing he wanted was to make a spirit mad and have Anna bail them out it. He finally spotted one, but the branch was too high for him to jump. So, he flexed his fingers and shook out his arms before climbing the thick trunk. He remembered climbing trees as a child; always feeling on top of the whole world when he looked down. "Glad to know I'm not as rusty as I thought." He muttered. "Now, let's see…" Henry hovered over the branch he wanted, and pondered on how to get it. He could either kick it, or push on it with his foot, but it couldn't be too hard. Otherwise, the branch would break when it hit the ground.

Deciding to push on it, Henry hung from the branch above it. Putting all his weight against the broken tree limb, he managed to easily break it off. Climbing down had always been tricky, as Henry often almost fell out of many. Yet he still got a rush of adrenaline, at seeing the ground below speed up to greet him.

Once he was back on the ground; his arm started to throb. Clearly not amused; of him climbing trees at the moment. "I didn't lift anything heavy, so why's it hurting?"

"Because you haven't used your arm in a while."

Henry looked up to see Anna, coming back with a basket of wet bedding against her hip. She had an amused smile, and nodded at the fallen branch. "Found a good one?"

"Yes. It'll work well." He turned to the tree. "What kind of tree is this? I've never seen one like this before."

The Gypsy walked up to the tree and put a hand on its trunk. "It's called a 'Wych Tree'. They're all over this part of Ireland." Turning to Henry, she looked him in the eye. "No doubt the wood will make a good temporary bow…until you can have a permanent one."

"True." He replied, before picking up the branch with his good arm. Anna lent him her knife, and some extra string she had saved. Henry sat down on the log and started to make his bow, while Anna hung the bedding to dry. She then started bottling the Hawthorn Wine, into clay bottles. Eumman padded around playfully, after finishing his treat…often trying to dig at a tree root with one paw.

While Henry wasn't a master weapon maker; the bow came out okay. It was crudely made, and probably wouldn't last a week. However, it would do until he could get a studier one. The string gave him some trouble, as he couldn't use his mended shoulder fully yet. And it was almost three o' clock by the time he and Anna finished their projects.

The Gypsy came over with some bread and cheese, that Brother Samuel had given them to take. Along with some water in a pitcher. "You did pretty well, Henry. Looks like you'll be hunting soon."

"Once I get some arrows, then I'll be able to bring us meat." He rotated his shoulder, carefully and winced when it throbbed in pain. "And if my shoulder will allow me to use it."

Anna softly laughed, and handed him the pitcher. "It will in time. Just exercise it slowly; and in a few weeks it'll be fine. Until then, I suggest hunting small game and putting wood on the fire. No heavy lifting or chopping wood with the ax."

Henry chuckled and sipped the cool water, blinking in surprise when he tasted oranges. "What's in this?"

"Just orange slices. The juice and oil favors the water; making it taste like one." Came her reply. "Do you like it?"

"Surprisingly yes."

Anna cut a slice of cheese for herself, and nibbled on it. "I do the same with mint, lemon, and cucumbers. There's no oil of cucumbers through. I'm thinking of trying to do raspberries next…if the market has them again."

The once-prince took another gulp of the water, and handed it to her. "I'd like to try them all, when you make them." He took a slice of bread and cheese, eating them together. "When do you go to market?"

"Usually when the harvest is near. But…" She looked at the carvan. "We need flour, sugar, yeast, and a few other things. Plus your bow. I can probably sell some of the Hawthorn Wine and soaps I've made. That could give us enough."

Henry thought about her words, then had an idea. "What if we sold some of the game I catch? I'm sure there's a tanner in the village that could use the skins, and the cooks of the Great Hall you mentioned would use the meat."

Anna rolled the idea through her head, and then smiled. "I think that would work lovely. But we'll need to earn a few coins to keep us stable just in case of bad times."

"And how should we do that?"

"Well…there's spinning wool, making cloth, etc."

Henry cleared his throat, "Maybe…I…could learn how, to do those things. If you'll teach me?"

"Of course! I teach you about making baskets tomorrow."

Eumman's bark made them look up, and see him yapping at a squirrel in the tree. Anna called him back over, and examined his paw. It wasn't broken, but the problem was that there was a thorn in his paw. Clearly the Friars weren't able to remove it. Luckily; the woman had a knack for removing it quickly, and didn't cause the poor dog too much pain. Anna removed the old bandage and used the nails of her forefinger and thumb, to pull the thorn out. She then had Henry bring her the bottle of Helichrysum, and some clean bandages.

Once the wound was treated and re-dressed, Eumman bounded around. Clearly happy he could use all four of his paws again.

Henry and Anna spent the rest of the day re-making the bed, and setting up a spot for Eumman to sleep. They used an old blanket, that they placed by the bed on the floor. After that, Anna began to lay out some herbs to dry while Henry played with Eumman.

At one point, a woman came up to the path. She was well dressed, and had her red hair piled on top of her head. Henry raised a brow at why such a lady would be out here alone. Yet he gave a bow. "Greetings, milady. What brings you this way?"

"Greetings. I've lost my way, could I trouble you for some water?" She asked, batting her eyes.

"Of course, just a-"

Eumman started to growl, heckles were raised and fangs were bared at the strange woman. Who took a few steps back, in fright.

"What's the matter with you, Eumman? Behave yourself." The young man started to pull the dog back. "I'm so sorry…he's usually not like this."

"It's fine, but please…the water?"

"I think not."

Both turned to see Anna; eyes narrowed and gleaming like a hawk. She had her arms crossed, and posture tall with her lips pressed in a frim line. The red head flinched, yes flinched, at the healer's glare. For a moment, Henry could've sworn he saw woman ripple like water.

"There's nothing for you here," Anna said, in a low voice. "Leave."

"I…I…only want some water."

She held out a clay bottle. "Here. Take it, and go."

"Anna what's the matter with you?" Henry asked, trying to keep Eumman from attacking. "Why are you acting like this?"

The red haired woman suddenly laughed, as she did her hair became yellow and her skin became grey. Clothes turned to rags, and her feet became cloven. Horns appeared on the top of her head, and her nails became long and broken. "You're as sharp as they say." She said, in a voice that sounded like gravel. "Impressive."

Henry had to shake his head, to snap himself from the daze. "Who-or rather 'what' are you?"

"A 'Glaistig'. They're the female versions of fawns and satyrs, from Rome and Greece." Anna replied, not moving from her spot. "What do you want?"

"Just passing through." The cloven footed lady said. "Thought about stopping in the village for a snack, but as you've given me honeyed water…I'll continue on my way." She took the clay flask, and then looked at Eumman. "He'll protect you well…take care of him."

Once the 'Glaistig' had left, the young woman breathed out the breath she had been holding. "Never thought I'd see one so close to home." She turned to Henry. "You ok?"

He nodded. "Yes…thank you. I'm still getting used to the fact these creatures are real."

Anna scratched Eumman behind the ears. "Well done, boy. Very well done. You deserve a nice bone, when we go into town."

The once-prince smiled at the affection, and scratched the dog's chest before they continued they're chores.

It was after dinner; that Anna let Henry try some of the Hawthorn wine. Just a sip at first, as it was stronger than anything Henry had in the past. He found it delicious, but slightly bitter. According to Anna; it had to sit for a certain amount of weeks so the healing aspects could be activated. Eumman curled up on his blanket, and was soon snoring away. Henry took the nightshift Anna and made him, and climbed into bed. She soon joined him, and blew out the candle. In the dark, Henry could hear the autumn wind howl outside and rock the caravan slightly. But…he paid it no mind. In fact, it didn't bother him anymore.

:~*~:

Come morning, the gypsy and the once prince sat in the grass with a large pile of willow reeds beside them. She put some into Henrys' lap. "Okay, this is how you make a basket. Just watch what I do, ok?" Her fingers moved fluidly as she wove the reeds into a basket. Anna explained that the baskets with handles were hard to make, the one without handles were easier. She helped him get started then went to help a boy who'd come to pick up his family's medicine.

Henry tried to finish; but the reed slipped from his fingers multiple times and often snapped his cheek. And to top it off, his hands didn't have callouses yet…so the rough reeds scratched them. Not enough to draw blood…but they still hurt. By the time Anna returned, he had made two small baskets. Yet his hands were badly scratched.

"Why didn't you stop, if your hands were getting this bad?" She asked, wrapping his hands with bandages.

He looked away, embarrassed. "I want to prove to myself I could do it."

"Oh Henry…you don't have to prove it." Anna touched his face, with a smile. "We both know you're capable of doing these things. But you have learn to stop should things like 'this' happen. Okay?"

The once-prince gave a small smile, and nodded. "Okay."

"Now, rest your hands and I'll put the reeds away. Then you can help me with the yarn. I have a large one that needs to be rolled into a ball."

For the rest of the day; Henry helped Anna with the yarn, which helped rest his hands. When five o'clock rolled around, the spun wool was soon finished. Making four balls of yarn.

"I'll be able to make a nice wool scarf, for you with these." Anna said, with a smile. "And perhaps some socks for both of us…should there any leftovers."

Henry got to his feet, and Anna gracefully got to hers. "I'm looking forward to them, should you be able to make those." He said, in truth.

"Shall we start making dinner? I'll make some mushrooms on fried bread."

"Sounds delicious." Henry answered, before offering his arm. "Shall I escort you inside, Forest Lady?"

Anna laughed, and looped her arm through his. "You may good sir." She looked over her shoulder, at Eumman. "Come on, boy."

The large bullmastiff happily barked, and padded into the caravan after them.


	7. Chapter 7

Over next five days; were quiet and peaceful for the two people, in the caravan of the Forest Lady.

The once-prince now had a new routine; he woke with Anna at the first rays of morning, had breakfast then did chores…helping when he could. Even making the medicines with Anna, and meeting the people that needed her aid. Many were elderly, and came in either a wagon or on horseback with a member of their family. There were many children that would also come; some were missing a limb form accidents, but they all held a bright smile. And once his shoulder fully healed, he often would put the little ones on his shoulders.

Aside from that; Anna taught Henry the ins and outs of the Druid's Forest. Of what to look for, the dangers, and what to carry should he meet up with a troublesome fairy or sprite.

Sometimes, Henry went hunting for small game with Eumann. But there were slim-pickings as winter was in a few months…plus the brigands Brother Paul talked about, had hunted most of the rabbits, squirrels, and birds. Making him return with nothing. His temporary bow wasn't helping either.

On the fifth day, Henry returned with the big Mastiff carrying one squirrel. As he sadly sat down on the log, Anna came over with a small basket of chestnuts. "Still the same?"

"Yes. If we don't find some meat soon…" He trailed off, then shook his head. "Forgive me, Anna. It's just frustrating."

She patted his shoulder. "I know, Henry. But we mustn't give up."

"But what else can we do?" He moaned. "There's not much else to gather."

Anna sat next to him, and placed the basket in her lap. "We still have some time…right now, all I need is some luck."

Henry gave a soft laugh. "LOTS of luck."

"Here's your first bit of it." The young woman held out a pendant of a leather chain. "I asked Brother Samuel to use the forge, to make this for you." She carefully put it around his neck. "It'll protect you when you're out with Eumann."

Henry looked at the pendant; it was a cross inside a sun with runes going down on back. "What's this say?"

"It says: 'The Lord is my Protector'."

He cracked a smile, and squeezed her hand. "Thanks, Anna."

Eumann gave a soft bark, and pawed at Anna's skirt to get her attention so she could pet him. After giving him a good scratch on the chest, the three went into the caravan to prepare for lunch.

The next day, Anna borrowed a spinning wheel from Nathaniel's mother, who had come to get more of the tea the Forest Lady had let her daughter try. The same Henry had drank to help his throat. Luckily, her little girl was recovering and seemed to want to drink more often. Nathaniel had brought the item over, when he passed through on another Truffle hunt.

Henry had no idea how the spinning wheel actually worked, as he had never touched one in his life. Plus it looked so complicated. Even Eumman cocked his head in puzzlement, at the odd item. Anna had to hold back a laugh at her future husband's expression. She cleared her throat, "You alright, Henry?"

"Yeah…just uh…how do you use these?"

Anna smiled and sat on the stool, "Just watch me ok? It's really simple." Her hands moved with fluid movement, as she pressed on the foot pedal to keep the wheel turning. Corse wool passed through her fingers, as she explained what she was doing, and filling the spindle at the end. Within moments; the wool had been transformed into thread. She then held it up to show Henry. "See? Easy."

The former prince swallowed nervously. "R-Right…easy."

A chuckle came from the gypsy, and she got up before having Henry take her place. "Ok, now you try it. I'll help you get started."

Henry let her take his hands and led him through the movements; soon they had half a spindle of thread. Anna smiled, and let go of his hands. "See? You're doing great." She stood up and patted Eumann on the head, before grabbing a small basket. "I have to go and check on the woodcutter's wife, she's expecting their second child. I'll be back by twilight or earlier depending on her state."

"I understand." He answered, while getting up to help her saddle Oberon. Once the bridle was securely on, did Henry say, "Travel safely, Anna."

His future wife kissed his forehead, once she was on the horse's back. "I will. You stay safe too, Henry." She took the reins and soon galloped down the path. When the once-prince couldn't see her anymore, he sat down and tried to spin the wool again. Every once in a while; his hands would be nicked by the hard wool, therefore cutting them. The young man would hiss, and tried to numb the pain by sticking them in the river before going back to the spinning wheel.

It was twilight when the gypsy returned, and she was horrified to see the state of Henry's hands.

"Why didn't you stop, before they became like this?!" She asked, bringing him into the caravan. Anna filled a bowl with water and some soap, before using a cloth to clean the young man's hands. "The things you do to yourself…"

He avoided her eyes. "I wasn't about to let a few -OW!"

"You're not immortal, Henry." She mildly scolded. "Honestly… be thankful you didn't bleed out."

"I spun some of the wool through."

Ann shook her head. "Perhaps…but some of them are stained with blood. We can't use those."

Henry's shoulder's slumped; he had made a bigger mess of things. He let Anna finish treating his hands, then flexed his fingers. "I don't deserve your treatment-"

"Hush. Don't beat yourself up." She put her things away, and then turned to him. "There's one thing left to do…I'll make some pottery to sell in the village. You can sell the wares and I'll dance. Between the two of us, we should make enough to buy supplies."

"Seems I'm not good for anything except hunting." The former prince said, sadly.

The gypsy gave a flick to his forehead. "Stop saying that, because it's not true. You have much more to your talents, you just don't see it yet."

"Easy for you to say." Henry grumbled, rubbing his forehead. "You can do almost anything."

That made her laugh. "You think I was born with all this knowledge of herbs and such? No. It took many years of practice and study, to get me where I am now." She then ruffled his hair, in an affectionate way. "Now, you rest and I'll make us eggs on fried bread for dinner."

Once she was out of the caravan, did Henry lay his head on his arms. Something he hadn't done, since he was a child. He felt angry at himself for not being able to help his future wife. Eumann put his chin on Henry's knee, with a whine. As if he knew what the young man was feeling.

Henry patted the large dog on the head, before looking up at the sound of voices. He got up and looked out to see Anna trying to keep two ragged men away from her. The once prince ran out and pulled Anna behind him. "What do you want?"

"Nothin' we just want to ask for directions." Said one of the men, with many missing teeth.

The other cackled. "And maybe have some fun with the little lady."

"As if I'd let you touch me, cur." Anna growled. "You and your friend leave us alone."

A Cheshire -cat grin slid across the almost toothless man's face. "Now, now…let's not be hasty darlin'. Show us what you can do, for a few coins?"

Henry's vision started to turn red, and his hands started to shake in rage. How dare they ask such awful things of Anna! Just the thought made his blood burn, like molten metal in his veins. A blur shot past them and the toothless man was on the ground, Eumann on his chest with fangs bared. The man's companion drew out a sword and ran towards the couple. Henry pushed Anna to the side and grabbed the man's wrist, before tossing him to the side while turning on one foot. With his opponent of balance; Henry kicked the man in the back, sending the other sprawling to the ground.

The sword was knocked from his hand, and Anna quickly grabbed it and held it in her hands. "Look at this Henry…this sword's so rusted, it can't even cut bread, let alone a person." She tossed it to him, with look of disgust. "Makes one wonder why they didn't chose a better weapon."

Eumann's captive reached for a dagger in his sleeve, but was halted by Anna walking up to them. Behind her Henry had twisted the man's arm behind his back and hauled him to his feet. The 'Child Of Trees' slowly wagged a finger. "Now, now…you wouldn't want to anger my furry friend, would you?"

The man paled, at the sight of Eumann's teeth which were just inches from his face. "N-No mam, not at all." He dropped the dagger and Anna kicked it away, before making the large dog get off him.

"I suggest you both leave, and not come anywhere near our house. Otherwise; I may not be able to stop him from ripping you apart. The both of you."

The way Anna spoke, sent chills down the two men's spines. And even Henry had to surpass a shiver, before shoving his captive towards the road after the toothless man ran off. The former prince looked at Anna, who was petting the Bullmastiff's head. "I don't know if I should be scared or impressed of you."

She shrugged, and waved a hand. "Not the first time men wanted to have their way with me."

"What'd you do to the-on second thought, I probably shouldn't know."

Anna took his hand, "You were quite brave you know, jumping that man like that."

Henry gave her hand a squeeze. "Well, I couldn't let them speak ill of your honor. You are my wife-to-be."

The woman smiled, "And I'm happy to be so, for I'll have no other than you to my husband." She put her other arm around Henry's waist, and leaned against his shoulder. "My Handsome Hunter."

To this; he smiled and brushed a lock of her hair out of her eyes. "My Druid Lady. I just realized something…we've never really kissed, have we?"

A blush dusted her cheeks, and she played with a strand of her hair. "That's true, we haven't. I guess we didn't really think about it, yet I suppose with all you've been through it was put in the back of your mind."

"I'd like to remedy that now," He said, bringing her hand to his lips. "That is, if you'd permit me?"

She lowered her eyes, as her face started to burn. "I would very much…my dear one." Anna felt the earth fade away from under her, when Henry's lips captured her own. It was strong, fierce, and yet gentle at the same time. Her heart pounded in her chest, as well as the pulse in her neck for it seemed time had stopped just for them.

Henry, meanwhile, had thought would explode from the shock of kissing Anna. While it wasn't a bad thing; it was unexpected yet…pleasant. He had kissed many girls but this one, truly was something different. _"God's Wounds; did she cast a spell on my heart? Or perhaps…she's the one I'm meant to be with?"_

Parting after a moment or two, both looked into the eyes of the other. Unsure what to say.

"Ahem!"

Henry and Anna jumped at the same time, and turned to see an elderly man with plum colored eyes behind them. He was smirking, but not in a mean way. He had a basket of, very verbal, hens strapped to his back. "Is this a bad time?"

Henry felt his ears turn red, as Anna waved a hand. "Oh, uh, no! Is there something we can do you, elder?"

"I'm looking for the nearest town, but I must've taken a wrong turn. Is it nearby?"

The former prince cleared his throat, and pointed to the path. "Follow this road for five miles, then take the left turn when you come to the fork."

The elderly man thanked them before heading down the path, the hens clucking and squawking loud enough to think they were right beside the couple. After the man had left, did Henry and Anna start to laugh.

"Why are we laughing?" Anna asked, between giggling.

Henry clutched his head as if he had a headache. "No idea! Must be the air or something."

Eumman barked and bounded around the two, clearly wanting to be in on the merriment. Once the pair had calmed down, did Anna and Henry return to the caravan to make dinner. The night came with cold winds that promised frost in the morning; yet inside Henry and Anna were warm in the bed with Eumman curled up on his blanket, happily snoring away. Looking at the sleeping woman beside him, Henry kept thinking about the things that led up to this point: his castle life, adjusting to the new one, getting to know Anna, and meeting the priests, let alone seeing real fairies and creatures.

"If I had been told about all this happening years ago, I'd probably send them to the wheel." He thought, putting an arm around the sleeping maiden. "Maybe, this is where I'm supposed to be?"


End file.
